TorrentClan Challenges
by ChocolateAndWriting
Summary: Some challenges for the forum I'm on. Rated T to be safe.
1. Good at Hiding

**Good at Hiding**

 **(Sorry guys, it's super loooooong!)**

Larkpaw blinked open her eyes, and her exhaustion seeped away in an instant. Today she would become a warrior! Joy flooded through her as she stood up and stretched before bounding out of the den. Her brother Adderpaw was eating a mouse in front of the apprentices' den at the edge of the clearing. He glanced up, ears pricked, and the littermates shared a look of excitement.

"Good morning," Adderpaw said, shaking out his gray fur that mimicked the fur of their father, Stormstar, so much. Larkpaw jumped high and landed on her paws, as excited as a kit.

"At last!" she exclaimed. Adderpaw blinked at her, amused. Larkpaw flicked him with her tail. "I can't wait to be a warrior." Adderpaw nodded in agreement. Larkpaw watched as he sat back down to his mouse. He would be the best, strongest warrior that StoneClan had ever had, and Larkpaw lifted her chin with pride.

A bright ginger blur distracted Larkpaw, and she looked around to see the younger apprentice, Robinpaw. The young she-cat crouched as though to pounce. Larkpaw whipped her tail away, just in case.

She blinked once, and in a split second her denmate landed on her. Larkpaw shoved the ginger cat off and turned to glare at her friend. The apprentice sat with her tail wrapped neatly around her paws. "I thought you were ready to become a warrior," Robinpaw teased. Larkpaw turned away and groomed her brown tabby fur, embarrassment prickling her pelt.

Robinpaw leaned against her. "I'm just kidding," she mewed. "I'll miss you though. I'll be the only apprentice now, for moons." Larkpaw nosed her friend's ear.

"I know, and I'll miss you too. But we can still be friends."

"We better be!" Robinpaw leapt up. "Let's go hunting with our mentors. It's your last day." Larkpaw and Adderpaw stood up too, and Robinpaw beckoned them with her tail. "Let's go!" Robinpaw bounced enthusiastically. Larkpaw nudged her, purring at her antics.

Larkpaw's and Adderpaw's mentors were padding out of the warrior's den, heads together. Thornypelt and Dawnstream both looked up as their apprentices neared. "Hi!" Larkpaw said. Quieter Adderpaw dipped his head respectfully. Robinpaw darted off to find her own mentor.

"Can we go out and hunt with Robinpaw? It's our last day as apprentices," Adderpaw said. Thornypelt shrugged when Dawnstream glanced at her.

"Fine by me," Thornypelt meowed. Dawnstream nodded. Larkpaw purred happily.

"I can't wait for our ceremony!" Larkpaw scraped the ground eagerly with her claws.

Adderpaw sat down next to his sister. "I know, Larkpaw. I can't wait either."

...

Larkpaw stalked through the rocks, itching to pounce on prey. Adderpaw padded beside her, and Robinpaw was on her other side. The mentors followed them. Robinpaw's mentor was on a border patrol, but Thornypelt and Dawnstream had decided to let her come. "More paws mean more prey," Thornypelt said.

StoneClan's territory was a large rock field, almost endless tumbled stones under endless blue sky. Larkpaw leapt from one rock to another, her nose in the air. She could scent a mouse in the cold clefts in the stone below her. She bounded down off the rock, ears pricking when she heard the scuffling of small claws on rock.

A dim shape scurried in the shadows, and Larkpaw pressed herself to the ground. She waited for a moment, pinpointing where the mouse was, and leapt. The mouse squeaked in alarm a second too late; Larkpaw landed on it and snapped its neck. She stood up proudly with her catch in her jaws.

"Nice!" Adderpaw called. His mew echoed against the stone. Robinpaw dashed past her.

"My turn!" she called. Larkpaw turned toward her mentor, Dawnstream, who nodded at her, approvingly.

"Nice catch," Thornypelt mewed. Her own mouse lay limp at her paws. "You'll make a great warrior."

Larkpaw ducked her head and said modestly, "I had a great mentor." Dawnstream purred.

"Thank you!" The gray she-cat looked pleased.

Larkpaw jumped slightly, startled, as Adderpaw appeared beside her out of nowhere with a pigeon. His gray pelt blended in with the rock field so well! Her littermate's whiskers twitched, betraying his withheld laughter, and Larkpaw glared at him, embarrassed, until he looked away. He nudged her good-naturedly. "Just teasing," he mewed.

Robinpaw bounded up to them, holding a plump hare. Her mouth was full of fluff but her eyes gleamed. She dropped the hare next to Larkpaw's mouse. "How'd I do?" she asked Larkpaw.

Larkpaw poked her with one paw. "Fine, of course. Your catch is way bigger than mine!" Robinpaw puffed out her chest. Larkpaw picked up her mouse and turned to head back to camp. Adderpaw walked beside her. The pigeon in his mouth muffled his voice.

"We should clean up after we get to camp," he mumbled to Larkpaw. "I think our ceremony will be after we get back." Larkpaw nodded, her mouth full.

The littermates walked side by side the rest of the way back to camp. They paused on the edge of the large hollow in the stone fields. Below, cats roamed among a huge tumble of rocks, ducking in and out of dens. Larkpaw followed close to Dawnstream as they hurried down the face of a particularly large, flat stone. They stopped by the prey-pile, dropping their catches there, before the apprentices parted from the group. Larkpaw crouched to get into their den. She began to groom herself carefully, not missing a spot.

Larkpaw had just finished smoothing her fur down when she heard her father's voice ring out. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Stonefall!" Larkpaw rushed over to Adderpaw and frantically began to groom his mussed pelt.

"You're hardly looking like a warrior!" she complained.

"You're starting to sound like a worrisome mother," Adderpaw purred in reply. They both fell silent for a moment, remembering their own mother. Redwillow had died in an attack by fierce rogues, back when Larkpaw and Adderpaw were newly apprenticed. The previous leader before Stormstar, Sparrowstar, had lost his ninth life in that battle as well, and then Stormstar had become leader.

Stormstar continued. "Adderpaw and Larkpaw! Come forward." Larkpaw felt frozen, but Adderpaw nudged her forward, out of the den.

"Come on," he whispered. "We're going to be warriors!" Larkpaw heard the excitement fluttering in his voice like butterflies. She slowly began to move. _One paw at a time_.

Stormstar stood at the top of the Stonefall, eyes glowing with pride for his kits. Adderpaw flinched once. _So he's nervous too_ , Larkpaw thought. She stood up a little straighter, hoping that she looked presentable.

Stormstar padded down the Stonefall to stand in front of them. Happiness gleamed in his gaze. "If only Redwillow could see you," he said softly, but his eyes seemed cold all of a sudden. He shook himself slightly, then said the words that leaders before him had spoken so many times before. "I, Stormstar, leader of StoneClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Adderpaw," he called, "step forward." Adderpaw took one nervous step forward, then another. "Adderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Adderpaw took a deep breath. "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Adderpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Adderstripe. StarClan honors your courage and your kindness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of StoneClan." Adderstripe's fur bristled with joy. He licked Stormstar's shoulder (only after a moment of hesitation, Larkpaw noticed) and Stormstar pressed his muzzle into his son's shoulder. Adderstripe pulled away quickly.

"Your turn!" he whispered to his sister. Larkpaw almost burst open with eagerness.

Stormstar turned to her and repeated the ceremony. Larkpaw could hardly listen for all her excitement. At last, she heard, "Larkpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

It took all of Larkpaw's effort to keep her mew from trembling. "I do," she whispered. "I do," she said again, louder this time. Stormstar nodded encouragingly.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Larkpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Larkflight. StarClan honors your enthusiasm and your loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of StoneClan."

Larkflight barely remembered licking her father's shoulder and the feel of his muzzle against hers. She padded to stand beside Adderstripe, thunder roaring in her ears.

"Adderstripe! Larkflight!" the Clan called. Larkflight saw Robinpaw, Thornypelt, and Dawnstream yowling the loudest. "Adderstripe! Larkflight!" Stormstar joined in to celebrate his kits' new names. "Adderstripe! Larkflight!"

The Clan dispersed. Cats came up to congratulate Larkflight and her brother. The littermates sat down in the center of the clearing for the nightlong vigil. Dusk was gracing the sky, heralding the night, and the occasionally star peeped through the dimming sunset.

Adderstripe and Larkflight sat side by side as the camp became quiet, save the breathing and snoring of cats. Suddenly, Adderstripe spoke up.

"Can I trust you?"

Larkflight was surprised. "Of course. I'm your Clanmate." Adderstripe turned to look her in the eyes.

"Can I trust you?"

Larkflight met his gaze. "I am your sister. If you have a secret . . ." _Did Adderstripe have secrets?_ ". . . I will not tell. I will never tell." They watched each other, eyes locked.

Adderstripe looked away first. He turned his head and muttered, "Let's talk tomorrow."

Larkflight shivered in the wind that blew off the rocks. _Where was her easy-going, happy brother? Who was this new cat with secrets?_ She watched the stars of Silverpelt wink until she fell into a tired state.

...

Thornypelt stepped out of the warriors' den the next morning, shaking Larkflight from her trance. She felt bone-tired, so tired she could've fallen asleep in the center of camp.

"How was your vigil?" Thornypelt asked. She stretched in the morning sun, then strolled to the camp entrance. "I hope you didn't fall asleep on your paws," she teased. Adderstripe glared at her. Larkflight was stunned at her brother's rudeness.

"Where are you going?" Adderstripe asked, grouchily. Larkflight stared at him. So did Thornypelt.

"I'm sorry, Thornypelt," he muttered, realizing his mistake. Larkflight just blinked at her brother. _This is not like him at all_.

Thornypelt nodded. "Go and rest," she mewed. Adderstripe slunk to the warriors' den, Larkflight following.

"Are you okay?" she asked as they settled down in their new, soft nests. "You . . . you're not yourself." Adderstripe sighed.

"Let's talk later. I need some sleep." He rolled away from Larkflight. Larkflight curled up beside him and fell into a deep sleep.

...

"Larkflight." An insistent voice tugged her from sleep. "Larkflight." It was Adderstripe. Larkflight blinked and gazed out of the den entrance to see early-morning light. Sleeping cats surrounded her in their nests.

"It's morning. You slept the whole day and all night too. Let's talk now." Adderstripe whispered, tiptoeing out of the den. Larkflight followed him.

"Shouldn't we tell someone? Like Stormstar?" she hissed, and Adderstripe flinched.

"No. Especially not Stormstar." He responded. They climbed up the side of the hollow to the top. Larkflight leapt onto a large boulder and surveyed the stone fields the stretched to a smudge of mountains, hazy on the horizon. Larkflight breathed in cool air and exhaled, feeling so free.

Adderstripe interrupted the peace. "Come on."

Larkflight followed her brother on a winding trail through the rocks until they were far from camp. Adderstripe paused. He sat down on a mossy stone.

"So? What's this all about?" Larkflight asked. Adderstripe squirmed. He took a deep breath.

"You know the rogue fight, where Redwillow died and Stormstar became leader after Sparrowstar?" Sparrowstar was the leader before their father. Larkflight nodded. Adderstripe continued. "Well, rogues didn't kill Redwillow and Sparrowstar. Stormstar did." Larkflight gaped at him. Her vision clouded.

"Who would kill their leader, and their own mate?" she whispered.

"Stormstar, apparently. And I saw him. He had snuck up on Sparrowstar in his den, knowing that it was his last life, and killed him. Redwillow saw, and Stormstar killed her, too. There couldn't have been any witnesses.

"I was just a young apprentice. But I knew that my father, _my father,_ was a power-hungry, terrible cat. No better than any rogue. And I ran. He didn't see me."

Larkflight stared her brother's glistening eyes. "I . . ." she trailed off. "What should we do?"

"Nothing," Adderstripe said, sounding defeated. "He's the leader of the Clan. They'd kill us."

"We can't do nothing!" Larkflight exclaimed. "We'll tell the Clan. When we get back."

"It's too dangerous!" Adderstripe snarled. He stood. Larkflight stared at him.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I could have helped," Larkflight murmured.

"You wouldn't have understood."

Larkflight turned away. "But I do now. We'll have to tell."

Adderstripe gaped at her, now. "We'll be killed, or forced to run away. To leave the Clan. It's not worth it."

"It is!" she snarled. "He killed my mother. He killed _our_ mother! And Sparrowstar! He's a traitor!"

Adderstripe stared at her. Then resignedly, he mewed, "I'll stand with you, if you don't change your mind. Deep down, telling is the right thing to do." They locked eyes.

"You were so good at hiding," Larkflight murmured.

The two young warriors had reached the camp. The sun was up, and cats filled the clearing. Now was the time.

"Cats of StoneClan!" Larkflight yowled from the top of the Stonefall. "Gather beneath the Stonefall to hear what we have to say." Murmuring filled the clearing. But cats gathered below them, curious. Adderstripe lifted his chin, paws trembling.

"Do you remember the rogue fight? That killed Sparrowstar and Redwillow?" Adderstripe called. Cats nodded, confused. "Well, no rogue killed Redwillow and Sparrowstar." Larkflight gazed down at Stormstar, and saw fury burning in his eyes. "Your leader did."

The crowd of cats gasped. All eyes turned to Stormstar, who stood tall. "Is it true?" a cat whispered.

Stormstar glared around. "Do you believe those fools?" But his voice shook with fear, and every cat heard it. Thornypelt stood.

"You killed Redwillow and Sparrowstar?" she snarled. She turned to Adderstripe. "How do you know?"

"I saw it. Stormstar killed Sparrowstar, and Redwillow because she was a witness," Adderstripe said, voice strong and clear. "He is a traitor." It made sense; Stormstar never really grieved either of them. Every cat knew the truth.

Stormstar backed away. "I didn't kill anyone," he growled, but the battle was lost. StoneClan advanced on him. He turned and fled form the camp. Cats raced after him. Adderstripe turned to Larkflight. The sun rose behind him.

"Thank you," Adderstripe whispered.

"For what?" Larkflight asked.

"I feel so free," her brother murmured.

Larkflight leaned against Adderstripe and they watched the sun rise together, over the fields of stone, to the mountains at the edge of the sky.


	2. Two Paths

**Two Paths**

Turtlekit wriggled away from her mother's tongue. "Mommy! Stop!" Her mother, Ravenfeather, purred at her daughter, who struggled to escape from the grooming she was getting.

"Blackkit! Help me!" Turtlekit sent out a call for help to her sister, who was watching their friend Lionkit play outside the den with the apprentices. "Blackkit!"

Blackkit turned around to look at Turtlekit. Seeing her littermate's predicament, she bounded over and leapt onto her mother's back, battering the black-pelted queen's ears with tiny paws. "MoonClan, attack!" Blackkit squealed. Ravenfeather let go of Turtlekit to deal with her other daughter and Turtlekit bolted to the den entrance, to freedom.

Her hopes were abruptly cut short as a large paw pinned her tail to the ground. She was only a few pawsteps from the nursery entrance, too! Turtlekit tried to pull her short tail free and the paw lifted away.

It was Sundust, one of the other queens in the den. Sundust was the mother of Lionkit, who would soon become apprentice and Sundust would go back to the warriors' den. The only other queen was Snowwhisker, whose belly was swollen with her unborn kits.

Blackkit bounced up to stand beside her sister. Ravenfeather seemed to have given up her grooming, so Turtlekit ran a paw over her tortoiseshell-and-white fur.

Sundust's voice was quiet and gentle. "Why don't you kits go out and play? Lionkit should spend more time with his denmates, even if he's going to be an apprentice. Just don't get under any cat's paws!"

Turtlekit barely heard her parting words. She skipped out into the camp clearing and stood blinking in the bright sun. Blackkit skidded to a stop beside her. "Let's see if Lionkit will play moss-ball with us!" her littermate exclaimed.

Turtlekit thought Blackkit was a little too moony over Lionkit, for a kit. But she didn't say so. She dug her claws into the hard ground with excitement all the same at playing moss-ball.

Blackkit bounded away, her dark tabby fur shining in the greenleaf sunlight. But Turtlekit paid no attention to her. The kit lifted her nose in the air and detected the tangy scent of herbs, musty and fresh at the same time. The smell came from the medicine den in the corner of the MoonClan camp. A clump of ferns hid the inside of the den from view, and curiosity pricked Turtlekit's pelt when the fern fronds swayed once. She had never been inside the medicine den before. Turtlekit knew she was supposed to go there, but just a look wouldn't hurt . . .

Turtlekit tiptoed across the camp, trying to remain quiet and casual and to not attract any cat's attention. She could hear the voices that murmured in the nursery and the elders' den, and Blackkit and Lionkit were loud behind her. She reached the den without incident, though.

Pushing past the ferns, Turtlekit winced when they rustled loudly and waited until they were still. She padded down a green tunnel, leaf-lined stems arching overhead. At the end of the short tunnel were two den entrances. One den had mossy nests clustered around a pool of clear water, and the other had rows of leaf piles lining the back of the den. The back wall was a bank of earth that had clefts cut out of it, and the spaces left behind held more berries and herbs. A single nest was in the corner.

One of the leaf piles smelled familiar. Turtlekit crept closer and bent her head to sniff the fuzzy-leafed herb, curious as always. Where had she smelled that before?

"No, no, no! No kits in my den!" Turtlekit nearly leaped out of her fur when she heard the voice behind her. The voice sounded angry. Turtlekit whirled around, her ears flattened to her head in surprise. A brown and cream-colored tabby she-cat stood over her.

"Did you touch anything or eat anything?" the cat demanded. She loomed over Turtlekit, eyes narrowed to slits. Turtlekit whimpered.

"No! I didn't eat anything!" she squeaked. The tabby sighed. Her shoulders relaxed with relief and she took a step back.

"I'm sorry, Turtlekit," the she-cat sighed again. But some of these herbs aren't good for you if you eat them when you aren't sick." She gestured to a pile that had small leaves on the edge of every leaf. It looked a little like a fern. "That's yarrow. If you eat that, it makes you vomit." Turtlekit wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Who are you?" the kit asked the tabby. "I've smelled you before, but I don't remember your name." The she-cat purred in reply. Then she said:

"My name is Ivystripe."

"Oh! I remember you now. This is your den, of course," Turtlekit said, realization dawning on her. "You're the medicine cat of MoonClan." Ivystripe nodded.

"That's right."

"What's that herb there called?" Turtlekit sniffed quizzically at the fuzzy leaves. "You . . . I remember. You brought that to Sundust when her milk for Lionkit wouldn't come." She blinked, surprised. How did she know this?

Ivystripe was watching Turtlekit, but her eyes didn't betray her thoughts. "That's borage," she said. "It helps queens' milk come, like you said, and is also good for fevers. Do you know any others?"

Turtlekit nodded, slowly. She poked some bluish berries with a paw. "You gave that to me when I had a bellyache," she said. Then she pointed at some small black seeds wrapped in a leaf. "And those are poppy seeds." She glanced around, uncertain. "I don't know any more. Sorry."

Ivystripe flicked Turtlekit with her long tail, gently. "Don't be sorry; you know a lot for a kit. Maybe you'll be a medicine cat apprentice someday." Turtlekit lifted her chin happily.

"Maybe I will!" Then she trotted out of the den, ushered out of the tunnel by Ivystripe.

"Run along! And don't come into my den again, Turtlekit!" called Ivystripe after her. Turtlekit acknowledged her with a twitch of her ears. Her paws felt as light as air, like she could walk on the sky.

Suddenly, her sister's voice filled her ears, but she sounded far away. "What are you looking so happy about?" asked Blackkit.

Turtlekit sprang onto her sister and bowled her over before darting away. "I'm going to be a medicine cat apprentice!"

Blackkit wrinkled her nose up. "But you won't be able to hunt and fight or do any of that cool stuff if you're a medicine cat!"

"I will too, silly! I can do that AND medicine cat duties!" Turtlekit protested. "It will be fun!"

Blackkit's ears drooped. "But it won't be the same. We won't be warriors together."

Turtlekit nudged her sister. "Don't be sad! I'm still your sister and your best friend, even if I'm a medicine cat and you're a warrior. We can still play and hang out and have fun together, even if I'm not a warrior!" Blackkit sat up straighter, cheered up.

"Okay! If you say so," her littermate exclaimed. She bounded away, beckoning with her tail. "Come on, Turtlekit! Hurry up!"

. . .

"Your father will be here soon, and you have to look nice. So hold still!" Ravenfeather scolded, as she rasped her tongue through Blackkit's fur. Turtlekit's sister squirmed.

"I'm clean already! I look fine!" Blackkit squealed, struggling to escape. She darted from Ravenfeather's grasp. The she-cat sighed.

"It is what it is," she mewed. "Sit up straight now, head high! You should be presentable."

Turtlekit sat beside Blackkit, trying not to fidget. She'd get to see her father! They hadn't played with Hazelstone in a while, with all his warrior duties. But when he did visit them, it was a lot of fun.

Turtlekit sniffed the air, and her fur bushed out with excitement when she caught a hint of Hazelstone's scent. "Turtlekit!" Ravenfeather exclaimed, exasperated, but Turtlekit heard amusement in her words. "Stop mussing your fur! All my hard work." In her nest at the back of the den, Snowwhisker purred. She shifted and Turtlekit heard her grunt with discomfort as she tried to accommodate her belly, heavy with kits, into her motions.

"Your kits are beautiful, Ravenfeather," Snowwhisker mewed. "Hazelstone loves them, even when their fur isn't as immaculate as you wish," she assured their mother.

"I know," Ravenfeather sighed. She wrapped her tail lovingly around her daughters. Turtlekit squeaked indignantly. "But Hazelstone doesn't get to see them that much. They may as well be clean."

Turtlekit, bored of listening to them, turned away. Her eyes lit up like the sun when she saw Hazelstone on the opposite side of camp. The sun was hidden behind clouds now, but a few days ago when she had ventured into the medicine den it had been shining bright.

Blackkit raced past her, obviously seeing him too. "Hazelstone! Hazelstone!" the two kits called excitedly. Turtlekit scrambled onto her father's back, and Blackkit pounced on his tail with a squeak. Hazelstone shook them off, gently.

"Turtlekit, Blackkit," Hazelstone purred. "What a way to greet your father! And don't you know it's impolite to interrupt a warrior when they're speaking?" he teased. Blackkit ducked her head and Turtlekit murmured an apology.

The warrior Hazelstone had been speaking to, a brown tabby named Fishfoot, flicked his tail. "Cheer up," he said. "I love kits! I'll forgive you two, of course," he mewed with a smile. "But I would be careful around some of the other warriors. They can be grouchier than I am." Fishfoot nodded to Hazelstone. "I'll leave you to spend time with your kits." The tom padded away.

Hazelstone turned to Turtlekit and Blackkit. "I'm sorry I don't visit you much," the black-and-white tom apologized. "But I hope to spend plenty of time with you today." Turtlekit blinked happily at her father, while Blackkit brushed against him.

"We can start now!" Blackkit exclaimed. Hazelstone whisked his tail away as Turtlekit batted at it with her small paws. Their father dashed toward the nursery, and Turtlekit hung onto his tail, dragging behind him on the hard-packed earth of the clearing. Blackkit outran the two of them.

"Come catch us!" she yowled, ducking in between Hazelstone's legs and racing around the clearing. Hazelstone growled playfully and followed. Turtlekit watched the two of them playing and happiness swelled in her heart.

. . .

Turtlekit and Blackkit and Hazelstone played all day until long shadows began to stretch across the camp clearing. Hazelstone sat still beside his kits and curled his tail around them fondly.

"I've had so much fun today," he murmured. "But I have to go on the evening patrol tonight. I'll talk your mother about having another day like this. I'll be so proud when you both become warrior apprentices."

Blackkit straightened up with pride at his words, but Turtlekit paused and stiffened. What if . . . she didn't become a warrior? What if she was a medicine cat apprentice instead? Would Hazelstone still be proud of her? Or would he be angry, for letting his hopes down? Questions raced through Turtlekit's mind, fast as lightning. She didn't want to disappoint her father and her sister, too, but . . . being a medicine cat called to her. A tiny seed of duobt took root in her head. What should she do?

There were two paths to choose from, and she didn't know which one was right.

. . .

Turtlekit fidgeted. She wanted to play, but she couldn't concentrate. She sat hunched at the side of the clearing, mournfully watching the other kits play. She sighed. Guilt had wracked her every day since her father had visited . . . and she would be apprenticed in only a few days. Turtlekit didn't know what to choose.

She had kept it inside her for a moon now. Life had went on around her, but Turtlekit was stuck still. What should she do? Medicine cat or warrior? Which one was the right answer? Turtlekit's head spun just thinking about it.

Snowwhisker's kits had been born some time ago. Plucky Birdkit and timid Sorrelkit were sweet kits, but Turtlekit couldn't play. She had to think. She had to decide. But how could she?

She couldn't talk to anyone. They wouldn't understand. Her parents wanted her to be a warrior; she couldn't disappoint. She wanted to be a medicine cat; but was what she wanted best for the Clan? Turtlekit was lost in a daze of confusion.

Raenfeather seemed to have noticed. She came up and sat beside her daughter. "Are you excited to be an apprentice soon? You'll get to learn everything that I learned." Her mother assumed she would be a warrior apprentice. Turtlekit ached with indecision.

"I guess," she muttered. Her mother nudged her.

"Go and play," she said gently. "Or go talk to Ivystripe. She likes having you around."

Turtlekit perked up. She could talk to Ivystripe! Why hadn't she thought of that before? "Okay," she said, and stood up and headed to the medicine den. She smelled that Ivystripe was there.

"Ivystripe?" she called.

"Come in," a voice replied.

Turtlekit padded down the fern tunnel to the den filled with herbs. She picked her way in between neatly sorted piles towards Ivystripe, who was fixing a patch in the bramble den wall. "Hi, Ivystripe," she mewed.

"Turtlekit! Good to see you," Ivystripe purred. Then she looked closer at Turtlekit, who glanced away. "Something's troubling you. What's on your mind? Can I help?"

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" Turtlekit asked Ivystripe. The tabby cat's whiskers twitched.

"Medicine cats are usually good at that, and I am no exception, thankfully," Ivystripe said. Turtlekit sat down and curled her tail over her paws. She sighed a long, tired sigh.

"I just don't know what to do," she blurted out. "Whether to be a warrior or medicine cat apprentice. My family wants me to be a warrior . . . but I want to be a medicine cat. But I don't think that's right for the Clan."

Ivystripe closed her eyes. "The Clan always comes first, but you must follow your heart if you know the consequences." She blinked once, then turned her piercing gaze on Turtlekit. "Do you know what that means?"

"No . . ." Turtlekit said. But she did know. "Yes. Yes, I do." The kit knew what she had to do.

"Good," Ivystripe murmured. "I hope you do. Just know that your kin will always support you, because they love you, Turtlekit."

. . .

The day of the ceremony dawned bright and clear. Turtlekit woke, and her head felt much lighter than before she had spoken to Ivystripe. The tortoiseshell-and-white cat stretched, then prodded Blackkit in her side. "Wake up!" she hissed. "We'll be apprentices today!"

Ravenfeather lifted her head and yawned. She purred at her daughters. "My little warriors." Turtlekit let the final shreds of doubt in her heart burn away in the morning sun. She lifted her chin with pride, knowing what her choice was. She knew the answer now.

She groomed her pelt carefully until she heard Redstar's summons. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Tallstones for a Clan meeting."

Turtlekit padded next to her sister to stand beneath the pile of stones at the end of the camp, and stood waiting for Redstar's next words as the Clan gathered.

"Blackkit and Turtlekit, step forward."

The kits padded forward. Turtlekit tried to keep from trembling.

"Blackkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Blackpaw. Your mentor will be Fishfoot. I hope he will pass down all he knows on to you." Blackpaw fidgeted with excitement.

"Fishfoot, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have received excellent training from myself, and you have shown yourelf to be courageous and kind. You will be the mentor of Blackpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to her."

Fishfoot stepped forward to touch noses with Blackpaw, purring with joy.

"Turtlekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed . . ." roaring filled Turtlekit's ears. ". . . Ivystripe will be your mentor."

Every cat was speechless. Then Redstar continued, speaking to Ivystripe. ". . . I expect you to pass on all you know to her." The mentor and apprentice touched noses. Ivystripe nodded.

"Blackpaw! Turtlepaw! Blackpaw! Turtlepaw!" The Clan cheered, and the new apprentices stood tall.

Turtlepaw had made her choice. She was a medicine cat now.


	3. Ornamented Tragedy

**Ornamented Tragedy**

 **Greenleaf**

 **FROSTFEATHER:**

I love to be out in the forest around the WoodsClan camp. The quiet greenleaf woods, the dappled shadows, the patches of sunlight filled with motes of leaf litter. I love it all.

I raced ahead of the rest of the patrol. Redwhisker, Birchtail, and Dogpaw trotted behind me at a slower pace, and I steadily pulled away. Leaping over a fallen log and swerving around a holly bush, they were soon out of sight. I slowed a little bit to wait for them to catch up.

Soon I'd be back at camp and my mate Thrushstar and I would go hunting together. I loved that tabby cat. He made me so happy. I quickened my paws again as if to speed up time and get back to camp faster.

Our border patrol was headed along the Thunderpath, so when I smelled the acrid Twoleg stink I turned towards it. As I got closer, I could hear the whoosh of monsters racing past on the Thunderpath.

All of a sudden, a squirrel raced across my path. Fresh-kill! The thought of warm prey made my mouth water. I raced after the gray rodent, and it scurried away. We reached a clearing close to the Thunderpath, and the roar of monsters grew closer. I was sure I could reach the squirrel before we reached the Thunderpath, though. I sprinted after the squirrel, crashing through bracken and darting under a bush and back out again.

Then the squirrel was gone. Black stone appeared under my paws out of nowhere, and digusting Twoleg smell smothered me. My feet skidded on the stone as I struggled to stop, and suddenly I slipped and crashed to my side. Pain burst through my shoulder like fire and then a monster's shining pelt was inches from my nose and then

 **REDWHISKER:**

I stared in horror as we reached the Thunderpath. Frostfeather collapsed and then the monster hit her. Her white-pelted body was flung to the side of the Thunderpath. I raced to her side. "Frostfeather?"

Birchtail stared at Frostfeather's corpse. "She's dead," he whispered. "She's dead." Dogpaw stood still, gaping in shock. In a heartbeat, I remembered that Frostfeather was Dogpaw's and also Mudpaw's mother. And Thrushstar's mate . . .

Oh, StarClan . . . Thrushstar's mate. How could we tell him?

How could I tell him?

I was WoodsClan's deputy, and a Clanmate had died on _my_ patrol. This was a disaster. Would I not be deputy any longer?

I cursed myself for being so selfish. Frostfeather was dead! I pressed my ginger pelt against Dogpaw's black-and-white one and guided him away. "Go back to camp," I murmured gently in his ear. "Birchtail and I will bring Frostfeather back."

"NO," Dogpaw spat. "I want to help. I want to be with her. And I want to tell Mudpaw, too."

Of course I wouldn't deny Dogpaw that. I wouldn't deny him anything now. The tom stalked away, tail drooped with sorrow and defeat, and he and Birchtail hefted the she-cat's body onto their backs. I squeezed in between them to help.

 **BIRCHTAIL:**

It was a mournful procession back to camp. We didn't meet a single soul until we entered the clearing of the WoodsClan camp. There were gasps all around and several wails of horror. Snowshadow, the white she-cat who was Frostfeather's sister, let out an unearthly scream of anguish. I shrank away from her.

My apprentice Dogpaw rushed away from the rest of the patrol, surely to tell his littermate Mudpaw. Soon enough, the two young toms came back to the rest of the group. They crouched beside their mother's body in the center of camp.

Then Thrushstar came through the tunnel. I remember the look on his face like it was just a day ago . . .

The brown tom stood still. Then cats parted from around Frostfeather's body, and he froze when he saw his dead mate. His eyes glinted with disbelief; then they darkened with anger. "NO!" he screeched. The sound shattered the murmuring silence in the clearing. "No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen!" Thrushstar wailed. He sank to the ground. His fur bristled with fury and his eyes . . . they burned like a cold fire, glazed with grief.

Thrushstar turned on his deputy. "Who did this?" he snarled at Redwhisker. "I shall slaughter them and scatter their blood throughout the hills." Thrushstar was coming apart, and every cat knew it. Redwhisker backed away, and I saw fear flash in the ginger tom's eyes.

Thrushstar must have seen it too, because he paused. He looked around, and whenever he tried to hold one of his Clanmate's gazes, they'd glance away and take a few wary steps back.

My leader looked lost, then. That's what I remember the most; his rage and then his uncertainty. The brown tabby tom saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Disbelief sparked in his amber gaze, then was replaced by darkness. His Clanmates, his friends, his kin, even his two young sons were all afraid. Afraid of _him_.

I stepped toward Thrushstar, and he hissed at my cautious approach. I stopped, then said:

"A monster did it." My mew was small and scared. "A monster hit her . . . she chased a squirrel onto the Thunderpath at the border, and it . . . it got her." Thrushstar's shoulder slumped at my words, and he seemed so small. His fury disappeared in a heartbeat, leaving just a lost, fearful cat behind. The tom turned and fled out into the woods.

 **PLUMCLAW:**

I am Thrushstar's sister. I was standing there with all the other cats when my brother saw Frostfeather's body. When he became so angry, became an entirely different cat. Thrushstar was always so quiet, the responsible one, always able to take charge with a calm demeanor. Today . . . I don't know. I guess he just . . . snapped.

When he raced out of the WoodsClan camp, I sprinted after him, breaking away from the rest of the cats milling around in the clearing. He sprinted through the forest, crashing through brambles and bracken like a blind badger. I stayed a little ways behind him the entire time, not close enough to be detected but close enough to catch up if need be. When I realized where Thrushstar was heading, I sped up quickly. What if he ran out onto the Thunderpath to be with Frostfeather?

But he didn't. Thrushstar stopped and gazed across the expanse of black stone. The greenleaf sunshine was more menacing now, not warm and a reminder of the easy days. There weren't any monsters now, but the Thunderpath still hummed a whisker from my brother's paws. I padded up to stand quietly beside him.

We were silent for a moment before he spoke. "I don't know what to do, Plumclaw. Frostfeather was all I ever wanted, ever had, and now she's gone."

My sympathy for Thrushstar suddenly evaporated like morning dew. "You're wrong!" I snapped. Thrushstar was beyond anger now; all he had was defeat, and he would listen. "Frostfeather _wasn't_ all you had! You have your kits, Mudpaw and Dogpaw. Are you just going to give up on being a father?" I continued ranting, voice rising. "You have me. For StarClan's sake, you have your entire Clan to take care of! Are you going to leave? You going to pull a Pinestar move on us? Because that's the coward's way out, Thrushstar." He blinked, startled, and my fur prickled with satisfaction. "Even if you die, StarClan will judge you. They'll know you just up and left your Clan to be with Frostfeather. You'd go to the Dark Forest, or a place like that."

Thrushstar looked scared, and I began to feel bad. "They wouldn't," he whispered. I sighed.

"No, they wouldn't." I knew that. He wasn't a bad cat. Certainly not evil. I, of all cats, knew that. He was my brother.

I saw Thrushstar tense his shoulders, bracing himself for the second part of his nine lives, the part without Frostfeather by his side. He steeled himself, then took his first steps into his new life.

 **Greenleaf, twelve moons later**

 **DUCKFEATHER:**

I could tell Thrushstar was different from the morning he reentered camp. He seemed resigned, but resolved. Medicine cats know these things.

He still is different. Quieter, perhaps, and more serious than he used to be. I miss the old Thrushstar.

He seemed to drift away from the Clan, and from his sons. When Mudtail and Dogclaw got their warrior names, he stood tall with pride but his eyes were shadowed with sorrow. As a father figure, he just wasn't really there anymore.

I glanced up from sorting herbs as Plumclaw stepped into the shade of the medicine den. "Hi," she mewed. "I was wondering if you had something to help with sleep." She lowered her voice. "I'm worried about Thrushstar. It's getting close to the anniversary of Frostfeather's death, and he isn't sleeping too good." The brown-gray she-cat padded a few pawsteps closer. I stood up.

"Certainly," I acknowledged her question. I wrapped a few tiny poppy seeds in a leaf and pushed them towards her. "These should help; just two or three a night is enough. Not too many." Plumclaw nodded. She carefully picked up the leaf bundle and backed out of my den.

I watched her go. Of course Thrushstar would have some sleeping problems around this time. He wasn't the same. I should keep a closer eye on him for the next moon.

I padded to the elders' den. Redwhisker was there now, along with Dandelionspots, Beewhisker, and Myrtleclaw. I dipped my head in greeting. "Just checking in," I mewed. "Anyone have ticks? I can get an apprentice." The two she-cats shook their heads, and Beewhisker shook his. But Redwhisker beckoned me over with his tail.

"How is Thrushstar doing?" he murmured. "I haven't really been . . . close to him, since I retired. Is he doing okay?" I sighed.

"Well enough," I mewed, reluctant to give more information. But Thrushstar's former deputy ought to know. "He's not sleeping well, but that can be expected. It's been 12 moons since . . ." I trailed off. No one mentioned the incident, not in the same camp as their leader, anyway.

Redwhisker nodded. "Okay." He looked a little worried. I stood up and left the den when he lay down in a patch of sun and closed his eyes.

I stood in the shade of the medicine den, gazing up at a single beam of sunlight slanting into the den. "StarClan, give Thrushstar peace," I whispered. "Frostfeather, come back and tell him to live his life."

 **DOGCLAW:**

We're warriors now, Mudtail and I. We are beyond the grief. We have moved on, but our father has not.

I don't know what happened with him. He just . . . disappeared. Just a shell of his former self is left. Thrushstar died with Frostfeather.

I know she meant a lot to him. But he has his Clan to take care of! I remember the whispers when he raced out of camp on that day long ago, even if I was young. "Where has Thrushstar gone?" Some thought he would kill himself to be with her, others thought he might leave. Only Duckfeather, our medicine cat, was quiet. Her eyes were worried and her pelt bristled. She seemed so far away.

I suppose she was having a vision. She never told anyone. I never asked her about it. But to this day, I wonder . . .

What did she see?

 **MUDTAIL:**

I have a family now. A new family. Finchfall is my mate and Tumblekit and Mintkit are my kits. Thrushstar . . . I suppose he was my father. He never really acted like one. After Frostfeather died, he didn't seem to care. I guess Dogclaw and I reminded him of his mate too much. That didn't give him any reason to stop loving us, though.

Now I have my new family. Thrushstar is my leader. WoodsClan is my Clan. My life is simple. With another greenleaf comes the easiness of life in the forest.

I watch Mintkit attack her brother's tail in a patch of sunshine. I lean against Finchfall, curling my tail with hers. I am happy. My mother is dead, but she is not the first to ever go. My life has gone on without her; it never stopped. Thrushstar may be stuck in time, a time when his mate was still beside him every day, but I have moved on.

Life moves on.

 **FROSTFEATHER:**

StarClan is a beautiful place, no doubt. I love it. But Thrushstar . . . he misses me. I have seen it from up here. I am gone, but he will not let me go. He must go on without me, somehow. Mudtail, my son, was right: life goes on, and while Thrushstar has not, he must. I hope he can.

I have not deserted him. I see him in dreams, and there we are happy, side by side. I will forever be in his heart. I think he knows, now. That he is the only one still in the past. I think he can forgive and forget and be a leader, unburdened by all that has happened.

I miss my Thrushstar. I really do. But soon he will join me in StarClan, and we can be together. We can be together again.


	4. When Two Becomes One

**When Two Becomes One**

Icekit was bored. Swallowkit, his sister, had headed off to hang around with the apprentices. Icekit, annoyed, had scoffed and said that he wouldn't go with her. Now, he regretted his scathing words. The LightClan nursery was the most boring place on earth, Icekit had decided, but he was too proud to play with Swallowkit.

The young tom fluffed up his pale fur and stretched out lazily in the nest he shared with his sister and mother, Quietpool. Quietpool was out on a hunting patrol right now, and she had warned Icekit to stay in camp after he'd pleaded to go with her. "Kits stay in camp," she'd told him. "Good kits, anyway." Icekit didn't care about being good, but he didn't want his mother to be angry with him. What if she delayed his apprenticeship? So he stayed in camp.

"I'm going to die of boredom," the kit said aloud to the otherwise empty nursery. "It's too hot to go outside." While the den was cool, it was stifling, and Icekit was tired of greenleaf already. But on the other paw, out in the clearing the forest baked under the fiery ball of death in the sky. Icekit imagined the sun falling from the cloudless blue and squishing him like a bug. Maybe, hopefully, it would.

Eventually, after some thought, the white tom-kit made up his mind to visit the elders. The old cats' tales usually fascinated him; he loved hearing about their lives and adventures in the earlier days of LightClan.

Icekit ventured out into the scorching hot clearing and padded quietly around the camp's edge to the elders' den. He pushed his way through the golden bracken at the den's entrance and stepped into the small, shaded clearing. Moss-lined nests sat in a row under an overhang of slightly withered ferns.

An old black she-cat poked her scarred face up over the edge of her nest. "You here to get my ticks off?" she asked in a raspy, ancient voice that grated on Icekit's small ears. The kit wrinkled his nose and shook his head in response. The she-cat sighed. "Mouse dung," she grumbled. Then she turned her bleary eyes back to Icekit.

"You here for a story, Icekit?" the old cat mewed. "'Course you are. Kits love stories. And I got the best of them all. You've come to the right place." Icekit just blinked, startled that she knew his name. The black-furred elder chuckled at his surprise, a sound like crunching gravel.

"I know every cat in this Clan. My body may be about ready to fail me, but my mind is as sharp as a warrior's claws. Besides, we're kin, Icekit!"

Icekit exclaimed, "We are?" He hadn't known that! Of course, there was so much to learn, and he was just a kit.

The cat nodded. Then her tail twitched in surprise. "I don't believe I have introduced myself yet! Where are my manners?" she said, astonished. Then she dipped her head to Icekit. "Well, I'm Brightbeetle. I'm the oldest cat in LightClan and I'm proud of it!" Brightbeetle lifted her chin and looked at the fluffy white tom-kit. "Now, come sit down and listen." Ears pricked and eager for a tale, Icekit obliged and went and sat beside Brightbeetle, who shifted in her nest. He tried not to fidget.

"Now, I haven't explained how we are kin yet, have I?" Brightbeetle said. She licked her paw and ran it over her black ears. "Your mother is Quietpool, yes? Well, her mother was Hollythistle, and Hollythistle's father was Emberflame. My mother was Poppyshade, and Poppyshade and Emberflame were littermates. So I am your . . ." she trailed off in thought. "Ah, too complicated for my old mind," the elder conceded.

"Anyway, since I'm talking about ancestors, I know what your story will be. It's about when LightClan was two Clans, not one . . ."

"Really?" Icekit gaped.

"Yes," Brightbeetle went on. "SunClan and MoonClan. I guess the tale hasn't been passed down to you yet. Like it was to me."

"Tell me! Tell me!" Icekit blurted out, interrupting Brightbeetle's monologue. Brightbeetle purred.

"Okay . . ."

. . .

"My mother, Poppyshade, was just a kit when the Clans combined. But her mother, Blackhollow, told her all about it. She told me, and now I can tell you."

. . .

"Blackhollow!" a small voice squeaked. "Blackhollow!" The black tabby she-cat opened her eyes slowly, her dreams whisked away by small voices. Blackhollow's three kits were climbing all over her, and she gently shook them off. "Duskkit, Poppykit, Emberkit," she admonished. "Go out and play. Not in here." The three kits raced out of the nursery and into the clearing of the MoonClan camp. "Don't get under any cats' paws!" she called after them. Blackhollow sighed. She sure loved her rowdy kits. Soon they would be apprentices, though, and she would miss them.

Redstar's voice suddenly rang throughout the camp. "All cats who can catch their own prey gather here beneath the Tallstones for a Clan meeting!" Blackhollow stood slowly, then hurried out into the camp to gather her kits.

She plucked Duskkit up by her scruff, and the ginger she-kit squealed. "No! Momma, put me down!" Blackhollow scooped Duskkit's siblings toward her with her tail and told them:

"You're too young to be at this meeting, but if you are silent and EXTRA good you can stay." The kits were quieted by her promise, and the four of them sat below the Tallstones at the front of the MoonClan camp. Blackhollow smoothed Poppykit's tortoiseshell-and-white fur and Emberkit's black-and-ginger-spotted pelt. The she-kit and tom mewled in complaint, and their mother hushed them.

Redstar looked grave as he waited for his Clan to assemble. Blackhollow was distracted when her mate, Lionleap, settled down beside her. "Hey," she greeted him, but his pelt was prickling with worry that matched the look in Redstar's eyes. "What's going on?" she asked, concerned.

"You'll see," the ginger tabby tom nodded to Redstar, who shifted on top of the Tallstones. Blackhollow turned her full attention towards her leader as the clearing quieted and Redstar spoke.

"We have some . . . worrying news," the dark ginger tom began. MoonClan exploded into curious whispers, and Redstar lifted his tail for silence. The old tom looked tired, so tired. He'd been leader for a long, long time; he was a relatively old leader when Blackhollow was born. The she-cat snapped out of her thoughts as Redstar continued.

"Jaystar, leader of SunClan, has lost his ninth life." The Clan was dead silent. "His final wish was . . ." he trailed off. "Was that the Clans join together."

Some cat called out, "As allies?"

"No," Redstar said. "As one Clan."

Noise exploded in the camp as cats yowled and caterwauled. Then Turtleleaf, the MoonClan medicine cat and Blackhollow's sister, spoke out. She stood, her tortoiseshell fur shining in the sunlight.

"Redstar is right," Turtleleaf mewed. "I went with him when Jaystar died. He said – Jaystar said – that SunClan was not strong enough to go on. And that if one Clan faded, the other would follow. So we must combine. Two must become one to save them both."

Lionleap stood beside Blackhollow. "But there have always been two Clans, two cultures, two of them. Always. How are we supposed to change that?" he yowled.

Turtleleaf was calm. "StarClan has shown me signs," she said. "Will you go against their will? Just because you want to preserve MoonClan's heritage alone? The two Clans are interwoven throughout time, like roots that twist into one. And we must be one."

The clamor in the clearing became louder. A cat called out, "But why do we care about SunClan? We are enemies."

"Not anymore," Redstar said, sounding exasperated. "StarClan wants us to join. They _need_ us to join. That is their will!"

Nervously, Blackhollow backed toward the nursery before complete chaos broke out. She settled into her nest and her kits curled around, confused and a little scared.

"What's going on?" Emberkit squeaked. The tiny tom curled up beside his sisters. Blackhollow just sighed.

"It's too complicated," she mewed. It was too complicated even for her.

"Pleeease tell us, Blackhollow!" Poppykit squeaked, pleadingly.

"Yeah! Stop treating us like kits!" exclaimed Blackhollow indignantly.

"Well, you are kits," Blackhollow rolled her eyes. Poppykit squeaked in defiance and scrambled over her mother. "Get some sleep," Blackhollow said softly. "We got a long day ahead of us."

When her three kits were fast asleep, their small chests rising and falling with tiny breaths, Blackhollow slipped out of the nursery. She headed across the clearing, still filled with worried, fearful cats, to stand beside Lionleap. "What's going on?" she murmured.

"They're talking about what to do," Lionleap whispered. "To join or stay divided. I don't know . . ." he trailed off. "I just don't know, Blackhollow." The ginger tom pressed his face into Blackhollow's pelt. She breathed in his sweet smell.

"At least we'll be together," Blackhollow whispered at last. "We'll be okay."

. . .

Brightbeetle watched the patch of faded blue sky for a moment, in the opening at the top of the enclosed clearing. She gazed upwards in silence. Then she spoke.

"Things were different, a long time ago," she murmured. "There were two, not one."

Icekit stared at her. "Is that all? Surely not! Tell me more, Brightbeetle!"

Brightbeetle sighed and looked down at the kit. "That's all to tell. The Clans combined into one Clan. LightClan. And here we are."

"LightClan," Icekit breathed the name, reverent. Brightbeetle nodded absently.

"Yes, LightClan. With the moon's light and the sun's light, all the light becomes stronger. Brighter. Together. That's why they joined. It was a new age, the age of Light, when I was born. And Poppyshade told me, as an only kit, what it was like. The turmoil of growing up in that time, a time of change. Change that shook the ground beneath our paws like it was nothing." Brightbeetle took several deep breaths, then exhaled. "Well, now you know."

"Now I know," Icekit repeated. His thoughts whirled. Who knew LightClan was once something else?

Brightbeetle whisked her tail, seemingly more cheerful now. "Tell your sister Swallowkit to come visit me sometime, and I'll tell her the story I told you. Now, remember to come around and say hello to old Brightbeetle now and again," the elder said as Icekit stood, ready to go. Icekit purred.

"I promise! I have to come and hear more of your stories!" Icekit chirped, certainly happier since hearing the tale. He bounced toward the entrance to the still-sweltering clearing.

Brightbeetle smiled as he departed, then turned her gaze back to the small patch of sky.

Icekit headed back to the nursery, which was still empty. Quietpool's patrol wasn't back yet. Not that much time had passed, but to Icekit, it felt like moons. It felt like he was back among the cats of MoonClan, in Brightbeetle's story.

Icekit looked out at the clearing; the clearing, he realized, had once been part of the forest. The clearing was made of hard earth, packed down by many paws, but it was not as ancient as he had thought. Icekit's eyes slowly drifted closed, the warmth of the day making him tired.

He dreamed about when the two became one.


	5. Backstory

**A/N: If you have read a few of my other challenges, then you know about SunClan and MoonClan, or at least MoonClan. Well, long ago, things were different. There were no Clans; only a group of cats who dwelled in the forest. The two Clans began with two cats; Swift Raven and Shining Dew . . .**

* * *

A stout gray tom had waded into the river, the clear water tugging at his belly fur. A slender black she-cat stood on the grassy bank, watching him nervously. "Shining Dew," she called. "Come back!"

The tom twisted around toward her. "Come on, Swift Raven! Are you scared of a little water?" Swift Raven gulped, forcing down her fear. _That's not just a little water,_ she thought. _That's a whole river._

Swift Raven flicked her tail and padded to the water's edge. Shining Dew splashed to meet her. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at his mate. "I told you I liked water," he purred. "Ever since I was a kit. That's why they called me Shining Dew." Swift Raven smiled and touched her nose to his, then winced as she stepped into the shallow river. The cool water pulled at her paws, and the she-cat shifted to keep her balance. Her eyes followed Shining Dew's fluffy tail-tip as she took one step, then another.

The two cats stood in the middle of the gentle river. Swift Raven's legs were longer, and she stood while the tom paddled to stay beside her. The black cat dug her claws into the river-bottom pebbles, relaxing slightly.

Shining Dew watched the light flashing on the water's surface, and the shadows that danced beneath it. At last he started swimming back to shore, where he shook out his fur onto the surrounding bracken ferns. Swift Raven curled up beside him at the roots of a huge willow tree, and leaned against him. The gray tom rasped his tongue across her ears.

"I love you," he murmured softly. "I hope I am with you forever."

"Of course you will be!" Swift Raven purred, flicking his muzzle with her tail. "Mouse-brain." She closed her eyes and the greenleaf sun warmed her fur as she slept.

* * *

Swift Raven curled tighter around the three tiny kits. Shining Dew crouched beside her, grooming her fur. He groomed her ears just as he had so many moons ago.

"I'm so proud of you!" he said, settling himself beside her in the mossy nursery nest, their kits in between. Tiny leaves were unfurling on the brambles of the den wall, and birdsong could clearly be heard in the forest outside of the camp. Newleaf was finally here.

"What will we name them?" Swift Raven asked him, exhausted but happy from her kitting. The two mates gazed down at the newborns. Two kits were black and gray, although one was mottled and the other had distinct patches. The third kit was a gray tabby.

Swift Raven touched her nose to the gray tabby she-kit. "Silent Doe," she murmured. Shining Dew flicked his ear toward the mottled gray and black tom.

"How about Puddled Earth?" he murmured, and Swift Raven nodded in agreement.

"And Clouded Night," the new mother said, looking at the last kit, the gray and black patched she-kit.

"They're perfect," Shining Dew whispered. The new family pressed together tightly in the nest, hoping that they would never be separated from one another, not in this life.

* * *

A gray and black cat lay panting in the nursery, a pale gray she-cat crouching over her. A ginger tom stood at the entrance, shifting worriedly. The pale gray cat murmured, "Just one kit, Clouded Night. You're almost done." The healer rested a paw on Clouded Night's flank, as the queen yowled in pain. The tom flinched, but the healer stayed calm. She placed a single, tiny kit at Clouded Night's belly before standing. The she-cat dipped her headed to the ginger tom, who purred shakily.

"Thank you, Dove's Coo," he said to the healer as he hurried to his mate's side. Dove's Coo nodded and left the den.

"Russet Oak," Clouded Night whispered in a tired voice. Her whiskers twitched with amusement. "You were cringing that whole time," she chuckled. Russet Oak rolled his eyes when she continued. "Are you scared of a kit, some yowling, and some blood?"

Russet Oak pushed away the last traces of his queasiness as he looked fondly at the she-cat. "I'm afraid for you, because kitting is so different from fighting. It's out of my paws," he said at last. Clouded Night smiled up at him.

Russet Oak settled into the nest and purred. "We have a daughter," he mewed, reverent. Clouded Night looked thoughtful. They both watched the tiny tortoiseshell-and-white kit squirm, her stubby tail flicking.

"Dappled Moss," Clouded Night said. Russet Oak had a quizzical look on his face. "Her name," she added, and the tom nodded.

"That's a beautiful name," the tom purred happily. "For a beautiful kit."

Clouded Night reclined her head back until it rested on the edge of the nest, drifting off into a deep sleep as her kit suckled at her belly. Russet Oak watched his mate fall asleep before crouching beside her and curling his tail around her. Love filled his heart as he watched his family, his new family. The tom sat there, ever watchful, guarding them as they dreamt.

* * *

A tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat and a pale orange tom were padding through the forest. Sunset was nearing; golden light filtered through the leaves of the trees that shaded them. The clouds above were tinged rosy pink around the edges.

"I can't wait for the kits to come," the tom murmured. "I'll be a father at last." The she-cat purred and leaned on him. Her flanks were rounded with unborn kits, but by the size of her belly they were close to birth.

"I know," she said back. "They'll be perfect."

"Of course," the tom nodded.

They continued along a small silver creek, and the trees gave way from oak and maple to birch and willow. The ground was mossy, and clumps of ferns filled the space between the trees. The camp was close, just over a thicket-covered rise ahead. The she-cat paused by the stream.

"Wait, Dwindling Ember," she called to the tom. She crouched down and lapped several mouthfuls of water from the creek before relaxing beneath a clump of arching fern fronds. Dwindling Ember sat beside her as the she-cat groomed her patched fur.

"Let's get you back to camp, Dappled Moss." Dwindling Ember nudged her. "You're probably all tired out from this walk." Dappled Moss sighed, panting slightly.

"You're probably right," she grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. She acted like she was fine as she stood and padded away, but Dwindling Ember could see the pain sparking in her gaze, along with the worry. She turned her head so her mate couldn't read her expression.

Wincing with every step, Dappled Moss hurried up the rise with Dwindling Ember on her heels, circumnavigating the briar thickets. They could just see the steep-sided hollow where the camp lay when the she-cat collapsed. Dwindling Ember rushed to her side as she lay gasping at the roots of a birch.

"Get Dove's Coo and Lichen Fur," Dappled Moss growled through her pain. "The kits are coming."

Dwindling Ember froze with panic, before forcing out, "I can't leave you."

The tortoiseshell cat hissed in agony. "Get the healers, Dwindling Ember!"

Dwindling Ember turned and rushed down the gentle slope to the camp. The sun was setting in a fire of red and yellow as he heard his mate's yowl. He plunged into the camp, gasping. "Dove's Coo! Lichen Fur!" he called loudly for the healers. "Dappled Moss's kits are coming!"

A pale tabby tom rushed out of a den, followed by a frail gray she-cat. The tabby tom, Lichen Fur, growled at Dwindling Ember. "Told you she shouldn't have gone on that walk!" he hustled past the frantic tom with a bundle of herbs in his jaws. Dove's Coo limped after him. The healer was getting old, and Dwindling Ember rushed to support her shoulder. They hurried up to Dappled Moss. Another she-cat was crouched by the kitting queen's side.

Clouded Night looked up as she rested a paw on her daughter's flank. "Thank StarClan, you're here," she said. Dwindling Ember noticed that a makeshift nest was built around the kitting queen, and he felt his gratitude for all his campmates rush in like a flooded newleaf stream.

Clouded Night looked up and smiled at him. "It's not your fault," she said gently, as if reading his thoughts. "It was her time." Dwindling Ember dipped his head to her in reply, his mind racing.

At last, Lichen Fur looked over at him. "You have two healthy kits, a son and a daughter. We need to move them to camp, though." The tabby picked up a kit gently, and Clouded Night followed his lead. Dwindling Ember supported Dappled Moss as she stood and they padded down to the camp. Dappled Moss lay down, thoroughly exhausted, in her nest in the nursery. Her newborn kits - _their_ newborn kits - wriggled beside her.

"I'm so proud of you," Dwindling Ember whispered in her ear, and she purred. "We have to name them."

"Born at the meeting of sun and moon," Dappled Moss murmured happily. Dwindling Ember blinked.

"Fading Sun and Rising Moon," he said. Dappled Moss gazed up at him.

"Yes . . . the sun and the moon," she mumbled. "Perfect names. Beautiful . . ." she she-cat trailed off into sleep, and the tom watched the two slumbering kits. One ginger, a tom, and one pale gray, a she-kit. Sun and moon. They were important, more than anything, and not just because they were his. Dwindling Ember had a feeling, deep down . . .

These kits would change everything.

* * *

"Look, Rising Moon, if you don't like my leading methods, then you should leave."

Outside the forest cats' camp, a pale ginger tom faced a gray she-cat, whose chin was high. "I'm just offering advice to you, Fading Sun," the she-cat growled. "You don't take it; not my problem. But I still have a voice!"

The tom, Fading Sun, sighed. "I'm holding you back from being a leader," he said softly. "And you are holding me back, Rising Moon. We are not meant to be like this! You leaving and starting your own group will make everything change, for the better."

Rising Moon bristled with fury. "Are you kicking me out of the group?" she snarled. "If so, then I will go. You'll see, and you'll regret it, Fading Sun!" She stalked away, snarling under her breath.

"Hear me out. Don't go in cold blood." Rising Moon stopped and turned to look at him. She sighed and gazed up at the sky, where the sun was setting slowly.

"I know that's true," she whispered. "We are meant to be apart. One becomes two. Dwindling Ember said we would change the world, and I guess we are. But . . ." she rushed to her brother and touched her nose to his shoulder. "I don't want to go. I know it's inevitable, but I don't want to go."

"It will be better this way, and you know that."

"I do." Rising Moon turned and padded back into the camp.

"We can still see each other, Moon. We are kin. We are allies," mewed Rising Sun to her retreating form.

Rising Moon twitched her ears at him. "We leave at dawn."

* * *

Moonstar turned to gaze at her brother, her clear eyes emotionless. "Sunstar," she said, dipping her head to the other leader. "It is good to see you again. My Clan prospers."

Moons had passed, since the group had divided into two Clans, one led by Fading Sun and one led by Rising Moon; SunClan and MoonClan. The forest was peaceful, and the greenleaf season made every cat well-fed and satisfied. Sunstar watched his sister. This was yet another of the many times the Clans had met in this clearing, halfway between both camps, on the border.

The light ginger tom nudged Moonstar's shoulder. "Lighten up, this is a time for stories and friendship, Moon! How are you, really?" Moonstar sighed.

"I'm fine, Sunstar, I promise. I miss the way things used to be, but this is my life. I am a leader and that is first and foremost now," meowed the gray she-cat. She leaned against her brother.

"I hope trouble leaves us alone for a long, long time," she whispered. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching their mingling Clans. At last, when the moon was at its peak in the night sky, Sunstar stood.

"It is time to part, until the next moon," he called to the Clans. Nodding to Moonstar, he said goodbye and gathered his Clanmates around him. So much had changed in the past few seasons, but Sunstar was content. And Moonstar was content. Sunstar could be assured of that, at least.

"We cannot look back," Sunstar whispered to the stars, silver sparks above the trees. "We are the Clans now. We can only look to the future."

"Long live the sun and the moon."


	6. Forbidden Father

**Forbidden Father**

 **A/N: Sorry I haven't added a chapter in a while. Been busy with school and friends and things. Whoa, I have a life? ;) Anyway . . . enjoy!**

Redsun blinked shyly at Tuftedsage, curling his ginger tail around his paws. His friend purred and leaned against him amiably, but where Redsun had once been fine with it he was now uncomfortable. He wanted to say something, but Tuftedsage was chattering like a bird.

"Aren't you so excited you finally got your full name? I am!" the she-cat purred. Her pelt was a brindled gray color, matching the faded, desert landscape, save her brilliant yellow eyes. Redsun's own fur was a sandy ginger, good for hunting around the russet-colored rock that was so particular to their territory. The red rock was everywhere, and Redsun's pelt was perfect for it.

What Tuftedsage had said was true; Redsun had gotten his full name last night. He was a true medicine cat now. Of course he was excited, and happy, but his heart was conflicted.

He and Tuftedsage had been quite close, as kits and apprentices. It hadn't been a big deal, if Redsun had a crush as a medicine cat apprentice. But now he was official. He couldn't ever have a mate or kits, so Redsun had to end this affection now, before it became to serious. But he didn't know how to break it to Tuftedsage. He didn't want to hurt her by saying it outright. But eventually, he would have to do something. He didn't know what, or when. But something.

Redsun shifted away as much as he could without Tuftedsage noticing, but in reality, he didn't want to. In another world, where he was a warrior and was allowed to love, he didn't want to move away. But in this world, his feelings weren't more important than the Clan he had to care for, and he couldn't let them be.

Redsun's heart was strong, though. It didn't want to be forgotten. He stopped moving away and instead listened to what Tuftedsage was saying.

". . . it's been _moons_ since I got my name! I mean, I'm practically an elder now, Redsun! Going to need a poultice for my aching joints!" the she-cat teased. Redsun smiled, reminded of the fun times they'd had as apprentices.

All that was changing now.

* * *

Tuftedsage entwined her tail with Redsun's as they sat in the shaded medicine den. "We never get any time alone now," Tuftedsage complained, her eyes shining as she looked at Redsun. He turned away and suppressed a sigh of longing.

And at last, at long last, he forced out the words that had plagued his dreams. "I think we need to talk."

Tuftedsage leaned away to look at him. "Yes. I agree," she mewed, and stood. Redsun followed her out of the camp, wondering what she was going to say. Would she want them to be apart, too? He hoped so. It would make everything . . . it would make it all so much easier.

Tuftedsage paused in a clearing, crouching beneath the prickly boughs of a stunted pine tree. Redsun sat as near to her as he could, without being too close. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tuftedsage blurted something out first. Redsun paused. "What?"

Tuftedsage's eyes seemed brighter, like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Staring right at Redsun, she repeated what she'd said before.

"I love you, Redsun."

Redsun was shocked. Stunned. That was not what he'd been hoping for. And yet, his heart felt light when he heard her say it. _I love you, Redsun_. Redsun knew what he had to do. What he had to say, to end this. He opened his mouth, but his heart was louder than his common sense, and so he spoke the words that he knew were right.

"I love you, too."

* * *

It had been about several moons since Tuftedsage and Redsun had proclaimed their love for each other. The two of them hung out in secret, savoring every moment of their precious time together. In the red-rock desert, they explored the shady creeks and canyons and climbed up the highest stone formations to survey the land before them. The land was theirs, and the sky was theirs too. They were so happy, and not a single cloud could suppress it.

They never had a doubt about their love, but Redsun had doubts about his loyalty. What was he even doing? What kind of loyal medicine cat went behind his Clanmates' backs? He would curl up in his nest at night, shivering, his heart torn between his Clan and his love. StarClan had never taught him about how to heal a rift in your heart.

Tuftedsage became a mentor, and she had less time to spend with Redsun. The tom was both sad and grateful; of course, he wanted time to wander outside of camp with his secret mate. But he needed to get back into the flow of things, what with his old mentor Swiftwing ready to go to the elders' den. Swiftwing hadn't suspected a thing when Redsun was hanging out with Tuftedsage; she was forgetful and getting on in her moons. But now Redsun knew he had to step up to the plate and take on what he'd signed up for.

And so there he was, sitting in the medicine den, sorting old herbs from the new. The dusty scent filled his mouth and nose and Redsun sneezed, blinking. When he glanced up again, Tuftedsage was standing there.

"Tuftedsage!" Happy to see her, Redsun stood and purred. But then his smile fell. "Why are you here? Don't you have to train your apprentice? You -"

"I think we need to talk," Tuftedsage interrupted. It was what Redsun had said to her, moons before. The she-cat's eyes betrayed nothing, except maybe . . . no. Not possible, not for her. His Tuftedsage was bold and brave. Her eyes shouldn't hold the hint of fear they did now.

Of course, Redsun followed her.

"What's wrong?" the medicine cat asked, again and again, but each time Tuftedsage twitched her ears and stayed silent. Redsun stifled a growl and sped up his pace, agitated. Couldn't she tell him already?

At last, Tuftedsage stopped. Redsun watched her, staying standing while his mate plopped down rather heavily. She inhaled deeply and stared up at the cloudless desert sky.

"I'm expecting kits."

Redsun stared at her. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly. "That's great, Tuftedsage. I'm happy for you. But why couldn't you just tell me at camp?"

Tuftedsage's reply was a withering glare. Redsun took a paw step back. "You mousebrain," she growled. "They're yours."

"What - oh." Redsun stared at her, eyes locked. On the outside, his fur was smooth, his voice calm, but on the inside was a different story. Emotions clashed in a frenzied flash flood, joy and fear and anger and love and fear again. Love for his mate. Joy for the kits. And fear for the kits, too. And anger at himself. How could he be so careless?

Tuftedsage was gazing at him the whole time. Her eyes now shone with happiness, the fear gone. She wasn't alone in her discovery anymore. "We can get through this," she whispered softly. "We'll find a way."

And so they did.

* * *

When their kits were born, Redsun helped deliver. It was only his third delivery, so Swiftwing, now an elder, helped. He tried to act indifferent, and it worked. Mostly. He and Tuftedsage exchanged a single, proud glance before Redsun told her to call him if she needed something.

Two she-kits. Two daughters. His daughters. Their names were Amberkit and Sunkit, and Redsun had to hide his love for them whenever he saw them. To them, he was just another Clanmate. Just a plain old medicine cat. They didn't know. But Redsun did, and that got him through the sometimes-painful days.

There were complications, yes. Whenever one of his daughters came to the medicine den for something, it was struggle to act normal. And then there were the kits' pelts. Both of them had pelts that were a shade of ginger . . . ginger, like his pelt. There were multiple cats in the Clan with that fur color, though, so it wasn't an incriminating piece of evidence. But the resemblance was there, and that's what mattered.

Time passed. Amberkit and Sunkit became Amberpaw and Sunpaw. And soon enough, Amberdust and Sunsplash. And then Tuftedsage came to Redsun's den and sat down beside him.

"I miss you," she murmured. "I wish we could be together. It's not like anyone would care; they understand love."

Redsun sighed. "But they understand the code, too. And you know what the warrior code says."

Tuftedsage closed her eyes. "Anyway, that isn't why I'm here. I think it's time."

Redsun watched her, wary. "For what?" But even though he asked the question, he knew the answer. He knew his mate well enough, and even her most confusing words had their clarity.

Tuftedsage opened those beautiful yellow eyes. "To tell them who their father is." When Tuftedsage had had the kits, she hadn't disclosed who the father was to the Clan. The two of them had decided it would be better that way. But Amberdust and Sunsplash were no longer kits now. They were strong enough to bear the weight of a heavy secret. Redsun nodded.

In silence, the pair stepped out of the den and into the clearing. Tuftedsage called out her kits' names. Amberdust padded over from the fresh-kill pile, and Sunsplash hurried toward them from the direction of the nursery. "Walk with us," Redsun mewed. The two young she-cats shared a confused glance, before Sunsplash shrugged and they followed.

Minutes of a tense silence ensued, until Tuftedsage beckoned for them to sit in a small hollow. Pine trees arched over the top, little slits of blue sky visible in between. But Redsun turned his gaze away from the heavens to his family. His _family._ The words were astonishing to Redsun, in their truth.

"Is there a death? Is my mother sick? Is she going to die?" Amberdust abruptly ended the quietness. The plump she-cat's eyed widened with worry, and Redsun opened his mouth to reassure her, but Tuftedsage interrupted.

"No, no, everyone's fine. I just have something to tell you," she said, glancing over at Redsun, then corrected herself. "We. We have something to tell you."

Sunsplash looked from Redsun to Tuftedsage and back again. "We? What do you mean, we?"

Tuftedsage sighed. She seemed to sigh a lot, especially around the important stuff.

"Meet your father," she mewed. Sunsplash and Amberdust turned to gape at him.

"You?" Amberdust asked.

"But - but he's a medicine cat!" Sunsplash spluttered, staring at her mother. "That can't be right!" She glared at Redsun, then. "How can you lie?"

"We're not. This is the truth," Redsun mewed, feeling calm. He didn't think they'd forgive him, anyway. He could deal with this. At least they knew now.

"You don't belong in a Clan, you traitors! Betraying the code, and betraying your Clan for seasons and seasons! And _you_." Sunsplash whipped around to face Redsun. "You don't deserve to be a medicine cat." The she-cat was still for a moment, then stood and stormed off toward camp. Tuftedsage just sighed once more.

"Sometimes love is more powerful than laws," she said softly, and leaned on Redsun. Amberdust gazed at them, looking thoughtful.

"You aren't mad?" Redsun asked her, puzzled. His daughter shook her head.

"I'm not Sunsplash. I don't care that you're a medicine cat. I'm . . . I'm just glad I know who my father is," Amberdust said. She touched her nose to Redsun's shoulder for just a moment, then pulled away. "I'll leave you two alone and go check on Sunsplash." But before she left, Amberdust called out over her shoulder. "Don't worry. She'll forgive you . . . she just needs time."

* * *

Sunsplash did need time. A lot of time. Seasons passed, and she still ignored Redsun unless she absolutely had to speak to him. Until one day.

"She's kitting!" a panicked voice shrieked from the nursery, and Redsun immediately snatched up a bundle of herbs he'd set aside. He'd known Sunsplash would be kitting soon, so he might as well be prepared.

The ginger tom rushed out of the den, across the clearing, and into the nursery, where Sunsplash lay panting on her bed of soft grass. Several queens gathered around her, and Redsun shooed them away. "Get her some water, one of you," he ordered, settling into his brisk, orderly self the way he did when some cat was injured or needed help. He hustled over to sit at his daughter's side.

It was over soon enough. Three tiny kits, just as perfect as Sunsplash and Amberdust had been so long ago, lay curled into the new mother's side. Redsun gazed down at them, with his own sort of pride. They shared his blood, after all. The tom pushed a few borage leaves over to Sunsplash, and she chewed them up and swallowed. It was quiet for a few minutes, with both cats looking lovingly at the kits.

Then Sunsplash cleared her throat. "Redsun?" The medicine cat glanced up. Sunsplash looked away awkwardly, then met her father's eyes. "I . . . I wanted to say I'm sorry. You know. For ignoring you when you were just telling me the truth. I'm so sorry," she whispered. Redsun smiled gently.

"It's okay, Sunsplash."

"No. It's not. But I understand now. Now that I have my own kits, I know how you feel," Sunsplash said, curling her tail about her litter. "And I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

Redsun touched his tail-tip to her shoulder. "Of course I forgive you. You're my daughter."

"And you've always been my father."


	7. Unimaginary

**Unimaginary**

...

Maplemoss:

"Russetkit, please. Can't you at least _try_ and play with the other kits? Make some friends? You're a moon from apprenticeship. Wouldn't it be nice to have friends to train with then?"

Russetkit scuffed his small paws over the hard earth and sighed, head down. His mother, Maplemoss, couldn't help but echo his gesture, but hers was irritated rather than forlorn. _Why can't he just be NORMAL?_ She knew Russetkit wouldn't listen to her, though. He'd seemed like practically a different cat since his sister Frostkit had died three moons ago. The two littermates had been closer than twin acorns on an oak tree, but then Frostkit had gotten sick and weakened until she died. Russetkit had taken it hard, transforming from enthusiastic and energetic to antisocial and mildly aggravating. Maplemoss missed her daughter too, of course, with all of her heart, but she and her mate Fleckstorm had decided to try and move on and be the best parents they could be to their remaining kit, Russetkit. But he hadn't exactly made that easy for them.

Now Maplemoss tried to meet her son's gaze, but Russetkit fluffed up his ginger and white pelt and looked away. "I have a friend," he mumbled, but Maplemoss sighed again and refrained from saying what was on her mind.

 _But they aren't a real friend._

 _They're only inside your head._

...

Russetkit:

Russetkit was relieved when his mother gave up on talking to him and sent him to go eat something instead. He loved Maplemoss. He had to, because she was his mother, but he did love her. He just couldn't talk to her, though, or Fleckstorm neither. Not the way he could talk with Frostkit.

Reaching the fresh-kill pile, Russetkit dug his teeth into a large vole that was nearly half his size. Frostkit would want some, he knew. He dug thorn-sharp claws into the animal's fur as he dragged it across the camp clearing to a quiet, secluded corner, half hidden by thorn thickets. Despite it being late leaf-fall, with few leaves still clinging to the withering briars, it was a good place to go unseen.

Frostkit was waiting in the cleared space in the center of the shrubbery, looking just like Maplemoss with her calico fur twitching in annoyance and her stubby tail lashing. "What took you so long? I'm hungry!" she snapped, padding towards him. Although sun-high light filtered through the thickets, she cast no shadow, and her paws left no imprints on the dusty ground. Frostkit wasn't like him, him or his Clanmates. She was . . . different. Special.

She wasn't real; that, at least, was obvious. But she wasn't not real, exactly, either. She could eat. She could make marks when she wanted to. She could scratch him. And she had, many times, malice flashing in her gaze as she did so before she gasped and apologized profusely, begging him for forgiveness and nearly crying. Russetkit didn't want her to cry, so he always forgave her, even when her inflicted wounds stung and when he had to lie to Maplemoss about how he had gotten them. He hated to lie, but cats would think he was crazy if he told them the truth.

And how could he do anything else but forgive her? She was his sister. Perhaps a little bit changed, but his sister all the same.

Russetkit thought he was a ghost, which made the most sense. But the only ghosts were StarClan, and they had sparkling stars in their fur. Or so he'd been told. Frostkit's pelt was plain and starless, and there was just something about her. Something . . . darker. He didn't know how else to put it. She just didn't act like what he'd thought a StarClan cat would.

The tom-kit was roused abruptly from his thoughts by a claw in his shoulder. Russetkit hissed and flinched away from Frostkit's claws, wincing as the tang of his own blood reached his nose. And the cycle began again; more wounds. More lies. More tolerance. More fear. He didn't know why Frostkit was so mean to him, or why he let her. She was his sister, though . . . what else did he need? Maybe he felt a little guilty, because she'd gotten sick and died and not him. Maybe just a little.

"Stop drifting off and drop the vole!" Frostkit growled. Russetkit hastily pushed his meal toward her and licked at the blood welling from his cut.

"Okay, okay!"

Frostkit purred at him sweetly, anger gone in a heartbeat. No apologies this time. She tore a huge mouthful from Russetkit's vole, but he didn't protest. As he knew well, it wasn't good when Frostkit got mad.

...

Maplemoss:

Maplemoss looked over at her son in their shared nest when his belly growled. "Didn't I tell you to eat something earlier?" she asked, resignedly. Russetkit stared at his paws, not meeting her gaze.

"Sorry," he murmured. Maplemoss just smiled softly in reply and wrapped her bushy tail around his skinny frame. _He needs to eat more_ , she thought. He'd be the scrawniest apprentice ever, otherwise.

"Why don't we eat together tomorrow?" she asked, nudging him. "Just you, me, and your father. I'm sure Fleckstorm can find time to escape warrior duties for a bit. We'll . . . we'll be a family again."

Russetkit stiffened. Something flashed in his big yellow eyes, but Maplemoss couldn't tell what it was before it was gone. Then he relaxed and nodded slowly. Maplemoss smiled again and curled up around her kit, nestling him into her side. It would be nice to act like a family again. Maplemoss would look forward to tomorrow.

...

Russetkit:

"I'm just a kit; I'm not supposed to go out of camp, Frostkit!" Russetkit's protests fell on deaf ears, however. Frostkit tilted her head at him, eyes glowing bright though Russetkit could faintly see through her fur to the ferns behind her. The two of them were in the dirt-place tunnel, Russetkit crouching and glancing over his shoulder, and Frostkit sitting calmly and smoothing her whiskers with a paw.

"Don't be such a mouse-hearted kit," she teased, nearly shoving him off his paws with her playful nudge. Russetkit looked at her, thinking, _But I am a kit. And so are you._

Frostkit pushed past him to the end of the tunnel, her pelt passing right through the foliage. Russetkit followed a little more carefully, keeping his tail still as he crept outside into the forest. He stood frozen for a heartbeat, overwhelmed by his senses.

He'd never been out of camp before, but now he saw why the other kits always plotted to sneak out of camp. Green surrounded him, everywhere. Leaves whispered in the canopy above, and moss cloaked the forest floor. The trees rose up around him, seeming so tall that they could touch the sky. Birds called to each other above his head, and a single yellow butterfly flitted past his ears, like a stray sunbeam. It was _magical_. If Russetkit had ever thought that camp was big, he knew now that he was wrong. He felt like a little kit again, taking his first steps out of the nursery.

Frostkit glanced over her shoulder at him, a smirk twisting her rounded features. "Never been out of camp, have you?" Russetkit stared at her. She looked bored; how could she ignore the beauty around them?

He was startled when she whipped back around and stalked away, muttering to herself. Russetkit glanced around and then followed her, nervously. _Why is she angry?_ He hadn't done anything. Frostkit lashed her tail and disappeared around a tree stump ahead, and Russetkit hustled after her. He would surely be lost if he got left behind.

A flash of his sister's grumbling reached his ears. "Stupid kit – doesn't deserve the forest – and I never got to see it, did I? – should have died in my place."

 _Died in my place?_ Russetkit's blood ran cold. What was she talking about? He looked over his shoulder, thinking now that maybe this outing hadn't been the best idea, but the camp was nowhere in sight. All turned around, Russetkit had no idea of which way it was, either. All he could do was pad after Frostkit, despite the cold claws of dread curling around him. Where were they going?

...

Maplemoss:

Russetkit's mother poked her head into the nursery, but Russetkit wasn't there. He wasn't in any of the other dens either, or by the fresh-kill pile. There was a trace of his soft kit-scent in the dirt-place tunnel, but he wasn't there either. Maplemoss shivered. Her instincts told her something was wrong. _Where is he? Where is my son?_

She padded to the center of the clearing and tried to slow her panicked breathing down. "Russetkit? Russetkit!" Several cats came out of their dens to see what was going on. Calm morning sunlight dappled the camp, but inside Maplemoss's head her thoughts were scrambling, quite contrary to the world around her. She felt a tail brush her side and turned to gaze into her mate's yellow eyes. _Just like Russetkit's._ Fleckstorm's eaars twitched nervously as he looked at her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked her hesitantly, pressing his black-speckled white pelt against her own. "Why are you calling to Russetkit?"

Maplemoss couldn't hold his gaze any longer. She stared at her paws. "I think he's missing," she whispered. "I called to him, but he's not in camp!" Panic rose up inside her again, choking her. Russetkit was her only remaining kit; what if he was dead now too? Maplemoss had gone out on a border patrol earlier, leaving him to be watched by her Clanmates. He was so close to apprenticeship now that he could be without her for a little bit; he always went off on his own, anyways. But Maplemoss pulled away from Fleckstorm, heart seizing with fear. What if Russetkit was injured? Or even _dead?_ It was her fault. It was all her fault.

Maplemoss rushed out of camp, circling around to the dirt-place tunnel. There was a trail of Russetkit's scent leading out into the forest, accompanied by something else . . . something that she faintly recognized. Something like . . . no. No. She was going crazy now. But she could have sworn that it smelled like her.

But it couldn't be. Frostkit was _dead._

...

Russetkit:

Frostkit seemed more excited now, her tail twitching in anticipation. "Look! There's the stream!" Russetkit bounded along beside her as they stopped beside it. Frostkit flashed him a sly look before scooping her paw through the water and splashing it in her brother's direction. Russetkit squealed at the cold, laughing and flinging droplets back at her. They passed right through her, but she shivered and jumped away all the same. For a few heartbeats, they played like they had back when Frostkit was alive, happy again, the sun shining golden on them.

But it all passed too soon. Frostkit's eyes flashed cold and dark, darker than their usual green, and she shied away with a glare. Russetkit stared at her, wondering what had happened. _Why does she pull herself away from having fun with me?_ He shook his head, confused, as Frostkit stalked away from him. Again.

"Frostkit?" he asked nervously, flinching when she whipped around and snarled at him. Her big kit-eyes gleamed with hate, and Russetkit jerked back, stunned. "F-Frostkit?"

"You should have died instead," she sneered, her whole body fading sharply until all Russetkit could see were her slitted eyes. "I got sick, but we both played outside in the cold, you know. We both could've died. But StarClan wanted _me_ and not _you!_ And now I get my revenge."

Russetkit backed away, his ungainly paws slipping on mossy tree roots. "W-what? What did I ever do to y-you?" What was wrong with Frostkit? _What is she talking about!?_

Frostkit laughed, and it was like she'd become another cat. "You never wondered? All those times I hurt you . . . I was just trying to keep myself from killing you. But I can't keep it back now. I-" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes widened suddenly. She stared at Russetkit.

"There's something wrong with me," she whispered. "I don't know why. But StarClan didn't want me, and that's why I'm still here. There's something inside me that wants to kill you, and it won't stop trying!" Frostkit lurched toward him, then shrank back. "Help me!" Her eyes blazed with fear. "Help me! I can't control it!"

Russetkit trembled. She was right, he realized; there was something inside her. A _monster._ He darted a few steps away, then turned around. Frostkit had crouched down, shaking. "Don't leave me," she whimpered. "I'm still your sister."

She stared down at the ground, but when she gazed back up at Russetkit, the kitten staring back at him was not his sister. The darkness in her eyes had returned. And Russetkit shrieked as she launched herself at him, claws out, tearing through his fur, into his heart.

And then all he knew was silent dark.

...

Maplemoss:

A shriek rang through the trees, and Maplemoss turned toward the sound, her heart pounding. _Russetkit._ Something inside her told her that it was him. She stared at Fleckstorm, and her Clanmates who surrounded them, worry clouding their eyes.

"Russetkit!" she wailed, racing toward the place where the noise came from, paws thumping against the forest floor. The scent of blood reached her nose, and Maplemoss felt her eyes fill with tears as she stumbled into the next clearing. She skidded to a halt, ears flattening in horror.

Russetkit's body lay torn apart, tufts of ginger and white fur scattered everywhere. And a creature - a cat, a _kitten_ \- crouched over him. It looked up at Maplemoss, who froze beneath its piercing gaze. Tears and blood streaked its face, still lined with kit-fluff, but its huge eyes were hollow. Maplemoss struggled to breathe.

The horrifying kit slowly faded until only carnage remained, but while her Clanmates rushed to her son's dead body, she stood still. How? How could it be her?

She knew who the kit-creature was. How could it be? Maplemoss couldn't understand.

Frostkit. It was Frostkit. Frostkit had killed him. And now they were both gone. Both dead.

Maplemoss collapsed, sorrow filling her veins as she wordlessly wailed.

And far above, two empty-eyed kits were watching.

...

 **A/N: Felt like something scary. MWAHAHAHAHAH. Watch out, Clans . . .**


	8. Reborn

**Reborn**

I can't remember much from my first life, for it only lasted as long as a blink of the eye. I can recall a few things; my mother's scent, warm and sweet, and the fluffy pelts of my littermates. That's all. It's a short tale, my first life as a little tom-kit, because I never even got to open my eyes.

There was something wrong with me, inside me, and I never found out what it was. Clearly something was there, though, because I died. But enough of the sad and the morbid. We're onto the fun part now!

I can't remember the exact moment when I died. I just fell asleep by my mother's side, and when I woke up I wasn't there anymore. I was floating, and all around me were the trees of ThunderClan's forest. Everything was blurry, all except for a trail of pawsteps, icy silver and sparkling, that led up through the tree branches and into the evening sky. They were beautiful, and I didn't know what else to do, so I followed them. And at the end was a field of flowers and stars.

You know. StarClan.

I saw cats every way I looked, shimmering with stars in their fur, whiskers shot through with light, eyes glowing like full moons. Many stood silently, surrounding a pool of water. I padded closer, hesitant, and saw that the pool did not reflect them but instead held a picture. A lake, surrounded by hills and forest. Slowly, the image changed, and the forest rushed up to meet us. In a heartbeat a camp became visible. A few cats moved around in a clearing embraced by high stone walls, and we zoomed closer, through the bramble ceiling of a den, until the picture in the pool stopped moving.

We hovered above a nest with a cat in it, three tiny kits nestled against her fur. Two of them, one calico and one black, squirmed and mewled, while the third was silent and still.

I knew that the third kit was dead. And that the third kit was me.

"Crowkit." A soft voice, gentle like my mother's, filled my ears. I looked up, and on the opposite side of the pool stood a she-cat, standing on a twisted hind leg. Her star-filled blue eyes were so piercing that it was a moment before I realized she'd said my name. _My name. I have a name._

"Welcome to StarClan, Crowkit," the cat said, dipping her head. "We know you are just a kit, and you know little of StarClan. But my name is Cinderpelt. When I was alive, seasons and seasons ago, I was a ThunderClan medicine cat. But I wasn't always; I originally trained as a warrior, but became a healer after an accident that injured my leg beyond repair." My eyes flicked to her hind leg, the one she must be talking about. "And when I died, I was given a gift; a chance for another life. A chance to be a warrior, to hunt and fight for my Clan. And so we want to give the same to you." Cinderpelt gazed at me for a long moment, then smiled softly. "You may not understand, but we do not give this gift to any old cat, Crowkit. But we sense that you are special. Your Clan still needs you. So we must give you a second life."

Cinderpelt leaned forward and brushed her nose against my forehead. "Go, little one, be born again. Live as many lives as you need to fulfill your purpose." Wind swirled around us, tearing at my fur, and stars burned in my vision until I could see nothing but blazing white, and then it all went dark.

* * *

And so I was born a second time. My name was Redkit, and because I was the solitary daughter of my mother, Littleleaf, she never wanted me to leave her side.

"I opened my eyes _days_ ago, mama! Why can't I go out and play?" Littleleaf sighed, wrapping her tail around me. In the nest beside her, another queen named Sparrowfall rolled her eyes.

"Littleleaf, she's got to go out sometime, okay? When she's an apprentice, what are you going to do? Follow her around all day?"

Littleleaf glared but nudged me out of the nest, sandy fur bristling as I padded to the nursery entrance on tiny paws. "Be careful," she called. "Stay with the other kits! And don't you _dare_ leave camp, Redkit." I grinned and ruffled up my ginger fur.

"I won't!"

Time passed quickly after I left the nursery for the first time. I met my denmates. I played. I watched the apprentices practice their hunting moves, and two of them in particular. Cedarpaw and Spottedpaw were moons older than me, but I recognized them. They were my old littermates from my first life. Time had passed between my birth and my death.

They seemed happy, like they didn't miss me, and I guessed that was okay. They had never known me anyway. So I mostly forgot about them. I played the days away, frolicking in the greenleaf sunshine. And then I was six moons old.

I was apprenticed on a frosty day of leaf-fall, and as I touched noses with a warrior named Doeflower I was renamed Redpaw. I was beyond proud. My second life was far better than my first.

Doeflower was a good mentor. She and I cleaned out the elder's den and replaced all the bedding with another apprentice, a tabby tom named Sprucepaw. Sprucepaw was so much fun. We trained together a lot after that day, because our mentors were good friends. A moon passed, and I found myself looking after Sprucepaw when he left for patrols, thinking of his soft amber eyes, and snuggling close to him on the coldest leaf-bare nights. Eventually I told myself that I loved him. Every night I prayed to StarClan that he felt the same.

And then one day, Doeflower and I went out to hunt. It was leaf-bare, so we had to go farther from camp to find prey. We were in the deep woods, and Doeflower was stalking a shrew over an oak tree's roots, when a rustling in the undergrowth startled me. I had been thinking about how Cinderpelt had said I was special and had a purpose, when something slammed into me and claws stabbed into my shoulders. Doeflower shouted something but pain seared across my throat and burning yellow eyes were the last thing I saw before everything went black.

* * *

 _How many lives do I need?_ That was my first thought when I was born a third time. Something told me that this was my final chance, that I hadn't been paying attention and wasted my last life. I was ashamed, but also calm, because I would make this life matter. I wouldn't let another fox get to me this time.

It seemed like I became more distant from each life, because this third time I spent most of my time thinking about my purpose and my past lives. _Why am I here? I have a purpose, but what is it?_ I thought about Sprucepaw; where is he now? Is he still an apprentice? I missed him, and I wanted to see him again so much. _Does he miss me?_

Well, he'd be missing Redpaw. He wouldn't be missing _me._

In this life, my name was Smokekit. I wasn't close to my family. Days flashed by, and time was marked by events. I left the nursery. I played in the clearing. I was apprenticed to a tom named Dawnstrike. I went to my first Gathering. And I found Sprucepaw.

Sprucepaw was a warrior now, named Spruceleap. He had a mate, Berrypelt. I'll admit, I was jealous, but I stayed away from Spruceleap and tried not to think about him. Us. He wasn't my Sprucepaw anymore. He never really was.

I spent my time training hard. I promised myself I was going to make it to my warrior ceremony. Life went on.

And so, for the first time, I became a warrior. My name was Smokeheart. I was a good enough warrior, I supposed, but I didn't think I was exceptional. Over time, I began to think that maybe Cinderpelt was wrong. _What am I doing here? Why did I get a third life, when I don't seem to have a purpose?_ Moons went by like this.

Eventually, Berrypelt announced that she was expecting Spruceleap's kits. The next two moons seemed to pass in a heartbeat. And then the fateful day had come.

Hollykit, Mudkit, and Redkit. My heart hurt, because I knew the last one was named after me. Spruceleap's deceased childhood friend, maybe even first love. I couldn't help feeling attached to the tiny she-kit who had a ginger pelt, similar to Redpaw's. To mine.

I began to watch little Redkit more than I watched Spruceleap, even. And so I noticed when the kit snuck out of camp by herself one gray-skied day, and I followed as rain began to pelt down. Redkit headed straight for the stream bordering ThunderClan's territory, and I quickened my pace as I realized.

But I was too late. Redkit was perched on the edge of the streambank, and as I watched she tumbled in with a wail. _Mouse-brained kit!_ I thought, even as my heart filled with fear. I raced forward, and before I could think about it, I jumped into the stream.

The pouring rain made the stream far wilder than I anticipated, and my head was pushed under. Sticks and mud swirled around me, but I spotted a flash of orange and reached for it. I found her scruff with my mouth and began the battle to get back to solid ground. But the water was strong, and it was all I could do to cling to a rock near a steep bank.

Pawsteps sounded faintly above on the bank, and Spruceleap's head appeared. "Smokeheart!" he shouted. _He said my name._ "Stretch up as far as you can!"

I leaned forward, digging my claws into the slick stone, until Spruceleap reached a paw down and snagged his claws in his kit's fur. I let go, and as I did, I lost my grip on the rock and fell. A heartbeat before my head hit the rock I saw a flash of something – recognition? – in Spruceleap's eyes. And then, for a third time, the light went dark and this time I whispered goodbye.

* * *

Starlight brought me back, along with Cinderpelt's kind voice. "You did it, Crowkit. Redpaw. Smokeheart. You saved the next leader of ThunderClan."


	9. Runs in the Family

**Runs in the Family**

"That's some bad blood right there."

"Who _knows_ who her father is!"

"Probably some rogue, or a kittypet. No Clan cat for sure."

"And her mother tried to kill Thistlestar, you know, a while back."

"Of course we know! Everyone knows. That was when she was just a kit, right?"

"Yeah, and then Thistlestar's deputy went and killed her littermates. Frogkit and Puddlekit. He was stopped by the queens before he got to her, though."

"That's horrible! Eagleslash is a killer just like her mother, then!"

"Depends who you ask. The kits were innocent, sure, but Eagleslash thought that the Clan should have revenge for what their mom did. She tried to murder Thistlestar and take her last life!"

"But . . . they were _kits._ They couldn't have protected themselves. They weren't even three moons old!"

"Eagleslash clearly didn't care about that. It's too late anyway."

"I guess so. Maybe we're better off without them. Except she's still alive."

"She could turn out just like her parents. A rogue or a killer. Or _both_."

"She's growing up, though, with no sign of turning into either. Don't judge her by something she can't control."

"Well, you'd rather be safe than sorry."

"It could still happen. One day, she could just . . . snap. Kill everyone in SunClan."

"Oh, psh. That's not even realistic."

"Are you sure?"

"Bad blood. I'm telling you. It runs in the family."

* * *

Forty-three moons. Forty-three moons since Flowerclaw's mother's little . . . _incident_. Flowerclaw really only knew of it from stories, but she'd heard a thousand of them. Her mother's death had been the biggest thing that had happened in SunClan in many seasons. As the story went, on a cold leaf-bare night her mother, Brackenpatch, had crept into Thistlestar's den and tried to kill the other she-cat on her final life. She'd nearly succeeded, too. Cats didn't know why she did it, but Flowerclaw had heard the rumors. Much of SunClan thought that Brackenpatch had believed Eagleslash, the deputy at the time, would make her deputy after him. Flowerclaw thought that rather odd, since Brackenpatch had had a litter of two-moon-old kits to care for, and couldn't have become deputy anyway. Whatever her mother's motive had been, though, it had taken quite a different turn.

In the dead of night, Eagleslash had woken to hear a noise coming from his leader's den, and had crept from his nest to check it out. He'd come upon Brackenpatch with her paws over Thistlestar's mouth and nose, attempting to suffocate her and make it seem like she'd died in the night. Naturally, he'd attacked. Brackenpatch put up a good fight, but she'd been caught unprepared and fell at the furious deputy's claws. Her blood hadn't even soaked into the earth when Eagleslash stormed into the nursery and slit the throats of Flowerclaw's brothers. The other queens woke up, then, and restrained Eagleslash before he could kill the last tiny kit in the nest, still asleep among the cooling corpses of her siblings.

Thistlestar was grateful to Eagleslash for saving her, and for killing Brackenpatch. But she announced to the Clan that she could no longer keep him as her deputy. "I am forever in your debt, Eagleslash, but you killed innocent kits. There was no reason for their deaths, not at all. They should not have to pay the price for their parentage. We do not all grow to be our mothers, or our fathers." And so Eagleslash was sent back to be a warrior again, both a hero and a disgrace.

Flowerclaw couldn't remember Thistlestar's speech. She only knew it from afterwards, from other cats. All she could remember was being huddled against another queen's side, not her mother, and bundled together with other kits, not her littermates. _Where is my mother?_ she'd thought. _My brothers? Why does it smell like blood?_

It smelled like blood because SunClan was still in shock from the events of the night. Thistlestar had called the meeting of the Clan as soon as the dawn had come, and no cat had changed out the moss of Flowerclaw's old nest. The blood of the dead kits still soaked the moss, which had been scooped over the two little bodies; none of the dead had been buried yet, either.

But Flowerclaw did remember standing outside the nursery, just a small shape watching as her only kin were carried out of camp on the backs of the elders. She'd stood in the snow, with her green eyes widened in confusion and snowflakes drifting down and landing on her tabby-and-white fur. She was just too young: too young to understand, too young to feel.

She couldn't remember being sad, only puzzled. _Mama? Where are you going?_

She knew now. Flowerclaw knew exactly where Mama had gone. Somewhere she couldn't follow.

* * *

"Come, Fallowpaw! We're patrolling the MoonClan border today." Flowerclaw twisted around to look over her shoulder at her apprentice. She'd been mentoring the young she-cat for nearly a moon now, and rather enjoyed spending time with her. Fallowpaw was a bright young cat. Flowerclaw knew that there were great things in store for her, and it took her mind off of her own problems. She still heard the voices sometimes, the voices of her ancestors and her Clanmates whirling like stray leaves in her head. _You'll never be good enough. You're just another traitor. You'll be just like her._ Flowerclaw heard them less now, but they were still there. They lingered long after the sun had set, accompanying Flowerclaw into sleep some nights. But it was daytime now, with nothing to worry about. No voices to fear.

They walked along the narrow trail that led to the border. Fallowpaw bounded ahead, and Flowerclaw turned to make sure the rest of the patrol was following. An older warrior, Bluefire, and his own apprentice, Mistpaw, were sniffing around the base of a tangle of briars. "Keep up!" Flowerclaw called. "This isn't a hunting patrol!" Bluefire rolled his eyes but beckoned to Mistpaw with his tail.

Flowerclaw sped up to where Fallowpaw was standing at the edge of a steep bank, looking down over the Thunderpath. "Careful," the she-cat murmured, and Fallowpaw twitched her ears before shifting back a little. They stood there until Bluefire and Mistpaw caught up, and the apprentices leapt ahead to walk together. Flowerclaw watched them, brother and sister padding along side by side, and marveled at how similar they looked. With a pang of sadness she realized that she'd never had a sibling of her own to share her life with, and looked away from them, out over the landscape.

The bank sloped sharply down to the edge of the Thunderpath, and beyond it, rolling fields stretched until the edge of the cloudless sky. In the hazy distance, Flowerclaw could see a sprawling Twolegplace. She'd heard stories of it, but as far as she knew any cat who had traveled there had never come back. _Is that where my father lives?_ The she-cat frowned and looked back to the path. She used to wonder things like that more often, but now she didn't see the point.

The Twolegplace made for a nice view, and that was all.

Gravel skittered out from under her paws, abruptly ending her train of thought. Flowerclaw could hear Bluefire's pawsteps behind her, but Fallowpaw and Mistpaw were getting farther and farther ahead. "Wait up!" she hollered after their shrinking forms, picking up the pace. She didn't look to see where Bluefire was.

Suddenly, a panicky screech split the air, and Flowerclaw's heart stuttered against her ribs. She broke into a sprint, not looking to see if Bluefire was following, aware only of the drop-off on one side and the looming forest on the other. And up ahead . . . something was wrong.

Flowerclaw raced over a slight rise and skidded to a halt. Mistpaw was pacing at the edge of the cliff, fur bristling along his back. Fallowpaw was nowhere to be seen. The warrior hesitated for a heartbeat before stepping to Mistpaw's side. "What's wrong? Where's your sister?"

Mistpaw turned to look at her, eyes wide in terror. He said nothing, just gestured to the edge of the bank with his tail. Flowerclaw gingerly peered over, wincing when her claws slipped on the craggy rock.

She froze when she saw Fallowpaw clinging to the cliffside, eyes squeezed shut. Far, far below, monsters raced by on the Thunderpath. The younger she-cat glanced up with a fear-filled gaze when Flowerclaw whispered her name. "I slipped," she hissed, voice shaky.

"I see that," Flowerclaw mewed, looking around for anything, anything at all that she could use. Nothing. No sticks or vines, only a petrified-looking Mistpaw pressed against a wide-eyed Bluefire's shoulder. She looked back down to Fallowpaw, who yelped as her claws started slipping from where they'd dug into the rock. "Flowerclaw!"

Flowerclaw, heart pounding, reached down and dug her own claws into the back of Fallowpaw's paws. "I'm sorry!" she hissing, wincing at her apprentice's expression. But it worked; she hauled Fallowpaw up over the ledge, gasping and straining. The apprentice was well on her way to being a warrior, and lifting her was like trying to lift a boulder.

"Okay," the warrior sighed as Fallowpaw's back paws scrabbled on the stone. "Good?" She started to let go, sheathing her claws.

"Wait—"

Flowerclaw stepped back, and Fallowpaw's face suddenly twisted in fear before it disappeared. " _Flowerclaw!_ "

Flowerclaw, realizing her mistake, lunged forward. Mistpaw was faster, but they were both too late. "NO!" screeched Mistpaw as Fallowpaw tumbled down the slope toward the Thunderpath.

"Flowercl—" Fallowpaw slammed against the black stone far below with a dull _thud_. Flowerclaw, frozen with shock, felt claws of ice stab through her heart. _No no no, this can't be happening. This wasn't supposed to happen._

Flowerclaw stared at the broken body of her apprentice, tiny and insignificant below. Faintly, past the roaring in her ears, she heard Bluefire's shaky voice. "You . . . you let go of her. You killed her."

 _You killed her._ No, no, she hadn't. Voices whispered through her head, itching at the back of her mind. _We're back. You've certainly lived up to expectations, too._

"No," Flowerclaw whispered to herself, "no. I didn't kill her. _I_ didn't kill her. She fell." But her heart sank, knowing that she was just telling lies. _Stop lying to yourself, little flower. You know what you did._ The voices sent shivers through her bristling pelt.

Flowerclaw looked back at Mistpaw and Bluefire. They stared at her with horror, and in Bluefire's eyes, hate. He had been there when Brackenpatch had tried to kill Thistlestar. He remembered, and now he saw history repeating itself, in his eyes. "I didn't," Flowerclaw gasped, gaze locked with his. "It was an accident!"

Bluefire shook his head slowly, and Flowerclaw felt herself shrinking back to the helpless kit she had once been, watching her mother and brothers being carried out of camp and out of her life. "No," he murmured. "The Clan must know."

 _They can't! They can't._ A horrible urge rose up inside Flowerclaw, wrapping around her throat and threatening to choke her. _They can't ever know._ Flowerclaw felt anger surge through her, and she snarled and leapt at Bluefire, deadly as the ancient tigers of old. His eyes widened in surprise as her claws plunged into his throat. "No," she growled as he gasped for air, wheezing through the gouges in his neck as he collapsed in a heap before her. "The Clan won't know."

Bluefire stilled, and Flowerclaw staggered back. _What did I do?_ The feeling seeped away like Bluefire's blood into the grass, leaving her empty and horrified. _WHAT DID I DO?_ Flowerclaw stared in horror at the tom's slumped-over form and whipped around to look at Mistpaw, who stared back. The apprentice's legs shook and his chin trembled as he backed away towards the woods.

 _He'll tell too,_ Flowerclaw thought. The voices rose up inside her head, louder and louder.

 _Get him._

Flowerclaw pounced, a lightning bolt through the air, and Mistpaw turned and tried to run, paws slipping on the grass now slick with spreading blood. It was easy; Flowerclaw's claws sank into his shoulders and her teeth found the back of the apprentice's neck. He dropped like a stone, whimpering, and Flowerclaw stood over his body.

Was this how her mother had felt? Sure, Brackenpatch hadn't succeeded, but it was the thought that counted, wasn't it? Flowerclaw dug her claws into the earth, trying to sort out her thoughts. She had already thrown away seasons and seasons of trying to gain SunClan's trust, in one fell swoop, and she knew that she couldn't go back. But . . . could she keep this up? Could she keep up this killing, keep adding to this death, keep expanding the blood that would forever stain her paws?

She could follow in her mother's pawsteps, or she could run away and never look back to her old life, any of it. Flowerclaw felt her paws, once so full of power, weaken beneath her. She had one choice, just ONE. _Come on, little flower,_ the voices hissed. _You know. Follow her._

"But I can't," Flowerclaw whispered. "I'll never be the same as her, even if I try."

 _Are you sure?_

 _Am I sure?_ Flowerclaw wasn't. But she had to make a choice either way. She slowly turned around to gaze out over the land once again, and her eyes stayed on the far-away Twolegplace a little longer. There. She could go there. Maybe she'd even find her father.

Before she lost her nerve, Flowerclaw took off down the path along the cliff ledge. If she found a way down, she could get to the Twolegplace. Her eyes scanned the steep slope, but there was nothing. However, after a long period of running and aching paws, the bank began to slope down until the grassy top was level with the Thunderpath. Looking both ways, Flowerclaw saw no monsters approaching, and she carefully stepped onto the rough black material that scratched the pads of her paws. Gingerly, she darted across it, sparing a solitary look back toward SunClan's territory on the other side of the cliff. She couldn't see Fallowpaw's fallen body from here, but she bowed her head anyway before turning her back on the only home she'd ever known. Then she squeezed under the bushes edging the path and stood up again on the other side.

Murder might run in her family, but only the Clan cats knew that. Wherever she went now, she was an entirely new cat. Flowerclaw felt a weight lift from her shoulders like she never had before.

Her new life had begun.


	10. It's Going to Be Different Now

**It's Going to Be Different Now**

 **A/N: Based off a roleplay character I recently made. Sorry for any grammar mistakes because I don't think I reread this as much as I could have.**

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Foxsplash spluttered for air, her stomach still heaving and her breakfast puddled on the pine needles between her front paws. Leopardstreak stood over her, nose wrinkled in concern, golden-brown spotted fur ruffled as he surveyed the scene. Foxflash hastily nodded her head, coughing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine! I'm fine." Leopardstreak raised an eyebrow at her words. Foxflash offered a stiff smile and he shook his head at her, grinning.

"You crazy cat," he purred. "You know you can talk to me whenever, right? This is like the third time you've gotten this sick; can't you go get herbs or something to treat whatever it is? You're a part of the Clan too. You don't have to be so independent all the time."

Foxflash scoffed at him. "Oh, come on. I just ate another bad mouse or something! They probably all came from the same nest or something. I don't need any _help._ " Struggling to her paws, she relaxed into Leopardstreak's speckled shoulder as he moved to support her weight before leaning down to murmur in her ear.

"Foxflash, I'm your mate. I want to help. I care about you, alright? Is that so bad? Now stop vomiting everywhere!" Foxflash giggled as his breath tickled her ear fur, and they stumbled their way through the forest until she gained her footing back. Everything was fine.

A quick wash in the stream did the trick, and when Foxflash and Leopardstreak got back to camp, it was all back to normal once more. Foxflash was feeling a bit more tired than usual, but she assumed it was just from the violent vomiting that had happened that morning. She perked up as soon as she was surrounded by her gaggle of friends in the corner of camp, laughing and chatting until the stars came out and they had to follow the older warriors into their den. Curling up in her nest beside her mate, the plump she-cat rasped her tongue over Leopardstreak's ears. "Let's eat breakfast together tomorrow. Do you want to get on a hunting patrol too?" she asked. Leopardstreak nodded sleepily.

"You're the boss," he mumbled. Foxflash purred, her exhausted eyes slowly drooping closed.

"Okay. G'night," she whispered, smiling when he buried his nose in her ginger fur.

* * *

When she threw up the next day, she was starting to worry a little more. She'd even avoided eating any more mouse, thinking that the prey was the problem, but perhaps it wasn't. Foxflash felt a tiny twinge of fear deep down in her cramping belly. _Maybe something really is wrong._

Foxflash didn't want to go see Dovefreckle, the Clan medicine cat; maybe she had some ridiculous idea that if she just ignored the problem it would miraculously go away. But all that morning Leopardstreak kept trying to convince her, so in the end she went, more to shut him up than to figure out what the actual problem was. When the sun was high in the sky she turned her paws towards the medicine den, forgoing her sunhigh meal with Leopardstreak. She wasn't all that hungry anyway.

Dovefreckle glanced up as she entered the den, silvered whiskers twitching in surprise. "Foxflash! Haven't seen you around here in a while," he purred raspily, and with a start, Foxflash noticed his dappled gray pelt clinging to his ribs. _He really is getting on in his years . . . maybe I should have offered to help him more as an apprentice._ Dovefreckle continued, interrupting her momentary guilt. "Always so busy with your warrior things. What brings you to my humble den?" The old tom glanced back at the herbs he was sorting as Foxflash shifted her paws uncomfortably.

The ginger she-cat sighed. "I've been feeling sick recently. Just the past few days. I was wondering if you could, well, help me figure out what's going on?"

Dovefreckle nodded and paused his sorting, moving to stand right in front of her. His rheumy blue-eyed gaze roved over her pelt. After a moment, he paused and met her eyes.

"Foxflash, after this I would recommend that you take a long walk in the woods to think, okay?" Dovefreckle's face was calm, his eyes unreadable, but Foxflash's heart had begun to hammer in her chest.

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong?"

The old tom's face went dead serious. "No, Foxflash, there is nothing wrong with you. Understand? Absolutely nothing. Everything is how StarClan willed it to be. I know you're a stubborn one, and you like to be in control and have a plan for everything, so you might take this news a little hard. But there is nothing wrong with you."

Foxflash felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. "What? What is it?"

Dovefreckle sighed. "Calm down. Everything's fine. You're only expecting kits."

 _THUD-THUD_

 _THUD-THUD_

 _THUD-THUD._

All Foxflash could hear was the frantic pounding of her heart. _Expecting? As in_ pregnant _?_ She couldn't be pregnant. She had plans. She and Leopardstreak were going to patrol together and hunt together and live out their lives together. They were going to get apprentices at the same time and train them together until they became warriors, and maybe _then_ they'd decide to have a family. Not _now,_ certainly. They were so _young._

Foxflash couldn't be a mother. She just couldn't. Suffocating panic and fear choked her. Everything was coming undone, all her careful plans and late night chats with Leopardstreak about their future. Dovefreckle had been right about that: she liked her control and her plans. She needed them. And now she was having kits and her plans were all messed up and she was in no way ready to be a parent and what about Leopardstreak? What about the Clan? She couldn't do this, but she had to, because the kits were coming no matter what her agenda was and and and –

"It's going to be fine, all fine." Dovefreckle's soothing voice filled her ears, and she felt his warm pelt press against hers. "Go take a walk and clear your head." In a haze, Foxflash turned and padded back through the den to the clearing.

"And, Foxflash?" The she-cat paused, pricking her ears but not turning around. She heard Dovefreckle's old, raspy sigh behind her. "Please remember that kits are not a burden. They are not an interruption to your plans, only a new addition to them. Kits are a blessing."

Foxflash nodded, barely hearing him. Exiting into the clearing, she turned toward the warriors' den instead of the camp entrance. Maybe that wasn't the best idea; surely, Dovefreckle knew what was best for her, but she didn't want to traipse around the territory right now. She just wanted to sleep.

She made it to her nest without incident, but as she collapsed into the soft moss, she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Foxflash?"

 _Leopardstreak._ "Not now," she muttered, curling her tail over her nose. "Sorry I'm being short with you, but I just need a nap. I'll be fine later. Love you."

Leopardstreak scuffled his paws. "If you're sure, I suppose. I just – never mind. I'll leave you to rest. I love you too." Foxflash exhaled slowly as she heard his pawsteps fade until she couldn't hear them anymore. Her hearing faded away altogether as she fell into the abyss of sleep.

* * *

Her dreams were strange and frightening. Faceless kits snarled and hissed and grew into monsters. Dovefreckle's voice echoed in her head, now menacing rather than its usual soft tone. _Calm down, clear your head, this is StarClan's will. Clear your head. Clear your head._ His voice was replaced by Leopardstreak's disappointed blue-eyed gaze. "I don't want to be a father." Foxflash felt inexplicable tears filling her eyes at his words. "It's not my fault!" she wailed, but he turned away and dissolved into smoke and stardust. "Wait, come back!" Foxflash's head was spinning. Which way had he gone?

" _Come back!"_

With a flash of brilliant light, piercing pain stabbed through Foxflash's skull, and her eyes shot open as she woke with a start.

The young warrior gasped for breath, head aching and throat hoarse, startled to find tears streaming down her face. _How did it feel so real?_ "Just a dream," she muttered under her breath. Swiping a paw over her face, she tried to act like she'd just woken up from a calm night of uninterrupted sleep as her Clanmates began to stir around her.

 _No time to think about dreams now._ Foxflash's next step was figuring out how to tell Leopardstreak. She wanted to let him know as soon as possible; she didn't like having secrets from him, and maybe it would help if she had someone to share the weight with. At least, that's what she hoped would happen. It was the best possible outcome, but maybe she couldn't read Leopardstreak as well as she'd thought she could.

Why was she being so anxious about this, though? She was usually such a confident cat. Yes, there were different circumstances now, but even so, she did know Leopardstreak loved and accepted her. And if he was truly the amazing, loving mate she'd always had, he'd take this in stride too. As she felt the tom in question shift beside her, emerging from sleep, she made a decision. She'd tell Leopardstreak about the kits now, while her courage was still alive and present.

"Hey, sleepyhead," the ginger she-cat whispered, nosing her mate's side. "Wake up. We need to talk." Leopardstreak merely groaned in response, not yet fully awake. "I know it's early, I'm sorry," Foxflash added, "but this is important. Wake up!" A few pokes in the shoulder with a paw did the trick. Leopardstreak raised his head groggily and blinked at her.

"Yeah?"

"Outside," Foxflash said, tugging him up by his scruff until he was standing on his own. "Come on." Leading the way out of the warriors' den into the empty dawn clearing, she started towards the camp entrance, glancing back once to make sure he was following. Foxflash took a narrow rabbit track through the shaded shrubbery, listening to the loud rustling and muttered curses behind her as Leopardstreak's thick pelt caught on twigs and leaves. Finally, they paused in a small clearing filled with sunlight, and Foxflash turned around to face her mate, her energy thoroughly rejuvenated by the calmness of the forest.

Leopardstreak sighed, unfazed and still half-asleep. "Okay, if you said this was important then it must be, but why bring me all the way out here? Can't we just talk in camp?"

Foxflash winced. _Should I wait until he's in a better mood? No, no, I'm doing this. I'm doing this now._ She exhaled slowly, exhaustion creeping in after the refreshing walk in the woods.

"Look. I apologize for waking you up at this time, but I need to tell you something that's very, very important for both of us. Well, mostly me, but you too. Um. I don't really know how to say this . . ."

Leopardstreak gave her an encouraging smile, visibly trying to brighten up. "It's fine, Fox, everything's fine! Fire away." Foxflash took a deep breath and closed her eyes before speaking.

"I'm expecting kits."

Silence. Foxflash opened one eye cautiously. "Leopardstreak?"

Leopardstreak looked startled, fur spiked along his back, but his wide eyes were sparkling. "I – really? Wow! I mean – wow. You're having kits. _We_ are having kits. Oh, StarClan, wow. Sorry. That's so exciting!"

Foxflash was stunned. "You mean it?"

"YES! Why, do you think I wouldn't mean it? I love kits! Kits are a blessing, and you're going to be a mother! And I'm going to be a father. Wow!"

Dovefreckle had said the same thing. _Kits are a blessing._ Foxflash slumped in relief. "Oh, okay. I thought you'd be . . . well, not like this."

Leopardstreak pressed his muzzle up against hers and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Why?"

She closed her eyes again and leaned into his warmth. "We're so young, Lep. We're barely warriors! And besides, we going to have normal, happy lives together. We would train our apprentices together, and then . . ." she trailed off.

Leopardstreak nudged her. "Foxflash, life isn't all neat and organized like you want it to be. It's spontaneous; plans change and things like this come along. Plus, kits of our own are a thousand times better than apprentices. I can't wait until they're born! Do you know when they're due?"

"Dovefreckle said in a moon or so." A shiver of fear ran down her spine. Only a moon. And then she'd have to birth and raise these vulnerable little living things. She couldn't feel them moving around inside of her belly, but they were there.

Leopardstreak wove around her, unaware of her anxiety. Happiness practically bubbling out of his fur. Foxflash couldn't help but grin and absorb a little of his enthusiasm. Pushing her fear to the side for a heartbeat, she let him twine his tail with hers as they began the slow stroll back to camp, Leopardstreak chattering with excitement all the way.

* * *

About a half moon had passed, and Foxflash had finally allowed herself to be cajoled into sleeping in the nursery, just in case. She'd stopped hunting and patrolling, too; the only exercise she got was waddling to the fresh-kill pile every day, which she insisted on doing herself. "Do I look like some delicate flower to you?" she teased Leopardstreak, who only rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kit, remember."

And so the days flew by. The half moon came and went, and Foxflash's belly grew bigger all the while. Eventually, she realized that she was seeing Leopardstreak less and less, maybe once a day if he came to visit her. She hadn't had a real conversation with any of her friends in weeks, save a hasty congratulations, but that didn't count. Most of her time was spent resting inside the nursery, and after a few lame attempts at trying to get out and socialize, she wondered if maybe she should just stay in the den. _I just don't really_ want _to talk to my Clanmates anymore. Am I afraid of something? The kits will be born soon, so maybe it makes more sense to focus on them and preparing myself for becoming a parent. They're_ my _kits._ She felt like she was trying to escape responsibility by talking about useless felt that familiar weight begin to settle back down. Her burden-lifting chat with Leopardstreak seemed so long ago.

That was another thing. Leopardstreak was always so bubbly and cheerful when it came to talking about the kits, and Foxflash knew he'd make a great father. But she didn't feel like she was quite his equal when it came to motherhood. The happier her mate was, the more exhausted Foxflash became. In short, she felt like she needed time by herself to get ready, and that cutting herself off was the best option. Every day passed was another day closer to her kits' arrival.

One good thing was that Foxflash only had one denmate now, the Clan's singular permanent queen, Blackburn. They didn't talk much in the beginning. An older, broad-shouldered, black-furred she-cat, Blackburn's bright amber eyes made her surprisingly intimidating. Foxflash didn't speak to her unless it was out of obligation, but one early morning when she'd been jarred from another nightmare of failure and snarling kits, Blackburn was there by her side. "It's okay," she mewed softly, surprising Foxflash with her tender tone as the other queen carefully groomed her mussed ginger fur with her tongue. "It's going to be okay."

They spoke little after that, as though nothing had happened at all; as though Foxflash hadn't spent hours trying to recover and shuddering into Blackburn's pelt. But then came a sunny afternoon where Blackburn plopped down beside Foxflash where she was sitting in the nursery's entrance. Foxflash opened her mouth to speak up, but her denmate cut her off.

"I know you have bad dreams about your kits, worst than most queens do when they're expecting kits for the first time. I know you're scared of being a mother. I know that all this sudden responsibility makes you frightened, that you're a planner and it's harder for you to go with the flow and think it's better to go at it alone. But I've been through this too, and I've also been a queen for a long, long time. So let me give you some advice, okay?"

Foxflash started to say something, then paused. "I – okay."

Blackburn met her eyes and held her gaze firmly for several moments. "Kits are a blessing."

Foxflash cracked first, looking away over the clearing. _I've heard that before._ But the way Blackburn said it . . . it felt different. It felt more true, somehow. It was like the reality of her situation had finally come to her, after all that worry and fear.

"You're going to be a mother no matter what, so make the best of it and enjoy it while you can." Blackburn followed her gaze, staring out over the camp and all the cats and dens, and Foxflash turned her head just in time to catch the fleeting look of sadness on her face. "They grow up so fast. They'll be out there with the warriors soon enough, and then you'll regret all the time you spent worrying about what's going to happen instead of what's happening right now. Trust me, I would know."

Foxflash looked down at her paws. "I'm sorry."

Blackburn shook her head. "No, no, don't be sorry. Be happy. Spend your time well. It's very precious. Forget those bad dreams, Foxflash, because after all, that's all they are. Dreams. Now go out there and talk to cats and stop avoiding them! I know what you've been doing, secluding yourself away from your friends because you think you're different from them now and you have to focus only on your kits. Or maybe you're just afraidof something; I'm not exactly sure of what's going on inside your head. Just remember."

Foxflash scratched her claws through the dust. "Remember all of that?"

Blackburn shrugged. "Yes. No. Kits are a blessing. Remember that at least." Then she turned and padded into the nursery, leaving he parting words hanging heavy in the air.

 _Kits are a blessing._

Foxflash glanced over her shoulder once, back at the dim-lit nursery. She could hide away in there again, or she could get out and go talk to her warrior friends. Or Leopardstreak, at least. Thinking about it now, it made her sad that hadn't really spoken with him for a while, either.

But enough of that sadness over her problems! Blackburn was right, in the end. She needed to stop being afraid of the future and be excited about the present instead.

Foxflash took a step out into the clearing and made another decision while she still had the courage. Today was today. There was plenty of time to be worry about what would happen when the kits came. But right now? She had to remember that she wasn't alone in this, and that she had cats around her to support her. Kits were a blessing, and she didn't have to be afraid.


End file.
